Zirconia
by Stardust3 ANNOYED WAUG.2nd
Summary: AU. Sequel to Awakening. 14 years after Harry's generation graduates from Hogwarts an ancient spirit threatens the life they've made and dredges up the painful past. Now it's up to the next generation to save their parents from evil and from themselves.
1. Flashbacks

A/N: This is the third story in a series. The following are the briefest of summaries of the previous two stories to remind readers of previous events and set up _Zirconia._ By the end of the second or possibly the third chapter events should be well enough explained, however, that if someone were to start reading _this _story they would be able to comprehend the goings on without reading the previous two.

Summaries: Important/need to (should) know things from _The Last Laugh_: Lily and James get married and have Harry—never mind how. Important original characters: Angela Star, Lily's best friend and Sirius's love interest. Joshua Thompson, the man who steals Angie away and the two produce Kirsten Star. Plot: Voldemort acquires the Carbonated Crystal (an ancient and totally powerful weapon capable of a vast array of unknown horrors). James is descended from Slytherin in a complicated and twisted manner. Sirius, just because, is heir to untold millions which he is unable to attain until _Awakening_. A variety of drama leads to Sirius "openly" becoming secret-keeper for Lily and James and Peter actually becoming secret-keeper. Last bit of story: Sirius and Angie—a bit belatedly—declare their undying love for one another and are immediately married by Dumbledore. This happens, ironically, at the same time that Lily and James are being murdered. End story.

_Awakening_: This story is packed with subplot and I will endeavor to leave it out and only focus on important things. Hopefully the reader will find their memory sufficiently jogged. For those of you who are depending on this summary to tell you all you need to know, I will do my best. Awakening is set during Harry's seventh year. Angie is long divorced from Josh Thompson (she ignored her marriage to Sirius) and returns to Hogwarts with her daughter Kirsten. It is presently discovered that Kirsten is actually Sirius's daughter and news of Sirius and Angie's wedding becomes public knowledge for the first time. By the end of the story Sirius, who finally inherits, and Angie are remarried and they have a new baby named Ebony. (Obviously Sirius is cleared and Peter Pettigrew is accidentally murdered in the process.)

The plot is focused on Zirconia who is a reawakened spirit who was originally created by Slytherin. Ancient magic in the form of rings of the founders is wielded by their descendants (Harry Potter for Slytherin, Ron for Gryffindor, Kirsten for Hufflepuff and Hermione for Ravenclaw) is the way to combat her. The story focuses on Zirconia trying to reacquire her cubic zirconia necklace that Kirsten possesses. In the final battle Zirconia kills Voldemort. She is weakened but not defeated and escapes. Random character notes of great importance: Hermione's parents were murdered in her fifth year and she is adopted by Sierra, a friend of Lily's. Sierra later marries Bill Weasley. Kirsten and Ron are engaged by story's end, Hermione and Harry are dating, Draco and Ginny are also dating and unknown to anyone including the readers they are secretly engaged. Harry takes a position flying/playing quidditch for England and secretly becomes a spy for the International Auror Association. Ron works for the Department of Mysteries and so does Sirius, secretly. The last scene in _Awakening_ depicted Zirconia resurrecting Salazar Slytherin in the form of James Potter and unleashing the two forces of evil on the world. There, you are now armed with the most basic and necessary knowledge to dive right into this story.

Let me set up _Zirconia _quickly: Fourteen years have passed since the end of _Awakening._ _Zirconia _starts out with a series of flashbacks/dreams from a variety of point of views. Each flashback explains/shows an important event in the life of the characters to explain what their current situation is. This first chapter is therefore like a prologue of sorts that catches up the reader on the important events of the last fourteen years. The story will then take off on Christmas Eve during Ebony's fourth year at Hogwarts.

Take a deep breath.

Steady.

Go!

* * *

_Zirconia_

Chapter One: Flashbacks

By: Stardust

* * *

The Art of Eyeball Catching

By: Ginny Weasley Malfoy

_Does it ever end?_ Ginny thought to herself. _I mean really, does it ever end?_

She stormed down the castle steps, hoping to leave all her problems inside.

But, wouldn't you know it. It didn't work.

She slowed slightly as her feet carried her along the slippery green grass. She shivered as a breeze lifted up her fiery locks. With the wet grass, overcast sky, and chilly breeze, it may as well be raining again!

Ginny Weasley sighed, wishing the day would end. She knew it was going to be a long day when she woke up so late she had to skip breakfast… and then she was still late for Transfiguration. But obviously a detention on an empty stomach wasn't enough to satisfy the world's desire to make her day miserable. She was also dealt a failed Charms test, a disappointed letter from home, and a fight with her best friend Trinity.

She looked up, and realized she had wandered to the Quidditch pitch.

_Maybe throwing a quaffle around will help_, she thought. Now in fifth year, Ginny was on the quidditch team as a chaser. Harry, the captain, told her she was good, but Ginny knew she could do better. She just never got into Quidditch as much as the rest of them. Consequently, she played only half-heartedly.

Not that Harry would notice.

_Don't think that!_ Ginny scolded herself. She had long since given up on Harry ever liking her, but sometimes remnants of her old crush would present themselves in her unwilling mind.

Potter and the girls. It seemed that in the last few years, the famous Harry Potter had acquired quite a fan club and had no shortage of giggling girls following him around the hall all day. Worst of all was Hermione! Again, not that Harry would notice.

Ginny ran onto the quidditch pitch, hoping against hope to leave the world outside. She ran to the hidden broom closet in the Gryffindor changing room and pulled out her broom. On her way to the field, she grabbed the practice quaffle Harry had gotten her for Christmas the first year she made the team.

She felt better as soon as she pushed off the ground. The wind whipped around her, and goose bumps formed up and down her arms, but she managed to ignore the cold.

She flew a couple of laps around the pitch to relieve stress. There was no feeling quite like this. She hovered in the middle of the pitch and summoned the quaffle from the ground. As soon as he had it in her hands she felt powerful and in control, for once. She studied the goal and flew toward it. Once she was in the scoring area she threw it with all her might.

Bull's eye! Maybe she should be mad like this for quidditch games.

She dived her broom to retrieve the quaffle and scored again and again. (Not that it was hard without a keeper) Half an hour later, she hadn't missed a single shot.

She felt a little better.

She was just studying the goal again, almost ready to take her next shot, when she suddenly heard… clapping?

"Not bad for a Gryffindor," A voice drawled. Ginny whipped around and dropped the quaffle.

Draco Malfoy was sitting smugly on his Nimbus 2001 a few feet away. That wasn't why she had dropped the quaffle; she had easily recognized his drawling tone. It was just seeing Malfoy… the wind whipping his silver hair around him, his eyebrows were arched and he was sitting casually on his broom.

He looked… cute. More than that, he was hot… in that cold Malfoy sort of way. A whole new light had suddenly been shed on Draco Malfoy, Slytherin. An appealing light, almost as if someone had just told her that he was a Gryffindor. It wasn't as if she had suddenly noticed him…but it in a way, it was. Draco smirked.

"And then, you dropped the quaffle, typical," He drawled and Ginny blushed. She quickly dived to retrieve it.

"I suppose you think you're pretty good," He said when she returned. He still had not moved.

"And I suppose you think you're better," She snapped. Ginny was surprised at the cruelty of her tone, but also privately pleased. She was afraid his looks had thrown her off.

However, her tone didn't seem to affect the ever cool and collected Slytherin. He smiled at her… well, a Malfoy smile, without mirth.

"Probably," He said coolly. Ginny's cheeks reddened.

"You're a seeker anyway, remember?" Ginny replied.

"I used to play chaser. I guess there's only one way to find out who is better," He said. "We'll see who can make more goals. Go ahead, you can go first,"

Ginny looked uneasily at him, wondering what kind of game he was playing. His face showed nothing. Typical Malfoy.

She turned and flew to the goal and threw the quaffle and she missed. This got a smirk out of Malfoy.

Ginny, crimson, tossed it to him. He tossed it almost lazily and scored through the goal.

Ginny had lost her streak. She kept missing really easy goals. There wasn't a keeper! Malfoy, however, remained perfectly calm, making every shot and still looking good.

Maybe his looks WERE affecting her.

Not that she liked Malfoy. I mean, he WAS a Malfoy. But, what did that mean? She found herself remembering lines from Romeo and Juliet… "A rose by any other name, would still smell as sweet…" And he was older, and he flew beautifully. She watched that long, lean body as he flew toward the goal. Slender fingers gripped the quaffle as he tossed it to her.

Her distracting thoughts caused Ginny to miss the goal by about two feet!

"I know you can improve your form," He said. Ginny swung around, brick red, with anger and embarrassment as her new best friends.

"Who died and made you chaser?" She snapped. She was about to teach him a lesson she had learned long ago: embarrassment, anger, and red hair never mix.

"You're going to die if you throw like that. Potter wants a winning team." He smirked. Ginny gaped at him in shocked rage. How did he know just what buttons to push to leave her absolutely speechless?

No, he didn't know. He was just lucky. Ginny assured herself. "I… you…" She tried desperately to come up with a come back. He laughed, throwing his head back. She was temporarily distracted by the muscles that moved distractingly under the skin in his neck.

"Really articulate, aren't we, Weasley?" He asked mockingly. Her blush deepened. She did not need this on top of everything ELSE that had happened today.

"Well?" He interrupted her thoughts, and rather rudely too! "Do you want my help?" He asked in an offhand sort of way, as if it were obvious. What kind of game was this Malfoy up to? She played for Gryffindor; he didn't need reminding of that fact. And why hadn't she turned him down yet? Why was she actually considering letting him help her? She lost herself in those cold gray eyes. WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HER?

Ginny quickly found herself wishing she could have been content to have a crush on Harry Potter and not say anything about it.

"I'm taking that as a yes," He swooped over to her before Ginny could say or do anything.

"Your problem is your posture," He said. "It's affecting your arm position. Here," He wrapped his arms around her and changed her position on the broom. A chill went down Ginny's spine and it was not remotely related to the cold.

He handed her the quaffle and directed her arm movement. It sailed lazily through the goal… just like Malfoy's.

"There," He said. "Now you'll catch Potter's eye,"

"Who says I want to catch his eye?" Ginny replied, much to her own surprise.

"Well, whose eye do you want to catch? Certainly not the Slytherin quidditch captain's."

Draco hadn't exactly realized what he was saying, seeing that he WAS the Slytherin quidditch captain.

Ginny indeed found herself perplexed. She looked down at the ground many feet below and then back at Draco, who had raised one eyebrow. As she watched, Draco leaned in to her, and Ginny found it automatic to do the same.

When the kiss had ended Draco made a comment. "Or perhaps you do…" Ginny smiled.

* * *

As Ginny waltzed upstairs to her dorm she had forgotten Harry what's his name?

Now she knew who's eye she wanted to catch.

* * *

Ginny shivered in the cold and for a split second thought she was still out on the quidditch pitch. She reached for her husband. A moment later Draco replaced her covers and she mumbled a thanks, remembering just how lucky she was to have married him.

* * *

Blinded by the Light

By: Ron Weasley

"I cannot BELIEVE I let you talk me into this, Ginny," Ron mumbled under his breath. He shivered and, pulling his cloak closer, quickened his pace. "C'mon, let's get this over with."

"Quit acting like I'm torturing you!" Ginny said irritably. "I KNOW you don't like Draco, but-"

"Don't LIKE him!" Ron interrupted, whipping around, his eyes fiery. "I HATE Draco Malfoy with a passion."

"Well, as long as there's passion," She replied grinning.

Ron hated to think of passion associated with Draco Malfoy as it may then also be associated with his sister. Their long lasting (had it been two years already?) relationship was starting to make Ron uncomfortable. It had not simply blown over or been forgotten once Draco graduated—oh no, quite the opposite.

Ron admittedly hadn't been paying much attention to his sister this summer as he had been preoccupied starting a new job, proposing and then getting married a month ago (not to mention dealing with Kirsten's family—a new baby sister and her parents' wedding. He wasn't even going to think about what had happened at the reception…) Ginny knocked on the mansion door, and it opened eerily. Ron realized he had been ignoring Ginny again.

He scowled at the door and followed Ginny inside. It was hardly warmer in the torch-lit stone corridors than in the bitter cold outdoors. Ron was muttering again.

"Dinner at the Malfoys…" He said, loud enough for Ginny to hear, followed by a long line of rude words. He hadn't wanted to come, but since Ginny had insisted he was determined to have an awful time. No matter what Ginny thought Ron would not be the first of her family to be converted into liking Draco. Two years or not he was still a bloody Malfoy.

"Oh honestly," Ginny hissed, "Draco's not THAT bad!"

"Oh excuse me while I go PUKE!" He was also determined to embarrass Ginny into oblivion. He watched her cheeks redden with satisfaction.

"Ron, they'll hear you," She whispered.

"Well that would just be the end of the world, wouldn't it?" Ron replied, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

"Ron-" She began worriedly, but a voice from behind them interrupted her.

"Ginny, I would think you would know that the dining hall is this way by now." The two red heads whipped around. Ginny smiled, and Ron's face contorted into a strange expression. He was POSITIVE Malfoy was going to break her heart. Ron scowl darkened as she linked arms with him.

Ron brooded over Draco's comment as he followed them down the corridor. How much time had Ginny been here this summer, alone with Draco, since his parents had been taken to Azkaban? Ron shuddered and felt sick.

_I never thought I'd be here_ he thought darkly as one of Malfoys many butlers brought out the salads. He vaguely wondered if the salad was poisoned or enchanted in some way… Inspected the leafy greens closely he thought _It appears to be normal salad, except for the fact that it looks like a handful of weeds and doesn't appear to be edible…it doesn't seem dangerous._ Just to be sure Ron gave the nearest leaf a sharp jab with the fork a few times before tasting it.

Ginny and Malfoy were making lively conversation across the table from Ron, and they were sitting way too close for his comfort. It took all of Ron's willpower not to jump up when Malfoy touched her face. It was so wrong the two of them. Not only did all that was right and balanced in the world scream in opposition to the union Ginny was still in her seventh year at Hogwarts! She shouldn't be over here having dinner with a Malfoy, an older man, on her Christmas break!

Ron managed to make it through the main course without killing Malfoy, Ginny, himself, or the butlers.

"Interesting decorating Malfoy," Ron noted, casting a dark glance on the fireplace mantle which was adorned with a row of shrunken heads. Draco wrinkled up his nose, but managed to smirk faintly.

"Hunting trophies," He replied. His lips curled as he watched Ron sputter in surprise.

"He's only joking," Ginny said, giving her brother a look.

Draco shrugged. "I agree they aren't picturesque but I haven't the time or energy to bother redecorating."

"I could help you," Ginny piped up happily. Draco rolled his eyes and they continued to discuss at length redecorating. Ron ignored them and stuffed his face.

Ron finished his dessert and looked longingly at his sister's plate. As soon as she finished they could blow this creepy hell hole and escape back to earth. She put down her fork and Ron saw something glitter with a blinding force on her left hand. She moved it and he saw…

"OH MY GOD!" He screamed, standing up knocking his wine filled goblet to the ground. "WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!" He pointed accusingly at the enormous diamond ring on her finger. She looked away guiltily.

"We were going to tell you tonight…" She said uneasily, shifting in her chair. Malfoy smirked and put an arm around Ron's baby sister's waist. This was too much for Ron. He sprinted to a deserted hallway.

"Please let this be a nightmare," He prayed.

* * *

_Beeeeeeep!_ Ron hit the alarm clock angrily. _How long am I going to have to relive that memory? _He thought. His eyes fluttered open and he quickly sat up. Kirsten was not at his side.

With a sigh of relief he realized she was not far off brushing her hair. She saw him and smiled. "I got up a little early," She explained. "I figured I could help Dad get a jump on his decorating. You know how he starts to freak out around the holidays. Sleep in as long as you can…" She set her brush down and left the room as quietly as possible.

Ron rubbed his eyes sleepily and scenes of his memory filtered back into his mind. That night had been nearly as scary as the night James Potter had turned up at Sirius' wedding. Ron had decided later that Draco and Ginny must have chased after him and imperiused him or something. Looking back he couldn't imagine how they had ever convinced him not to tell their parents.

Ron always had wondered if he had told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley if Ginny wouldn't have gotten pregnant that New Year's Eve? As it turned out, nearly fifteen years in the future, everything was fine, but at the time Ron was convinced Ginny was setting herself up for clinical depression and suicide.

Fortunately, she found delight in being Draco's wife and raising their four children. In time she even started teaching Muggle Studies at Hogwarts. Sometimes Ron still had trouble looking Draco in the eye but not often. He saw how happy Ginny had become.

* * *

The Many Faces of Harry Potter 

By: Draco Malfoy

* * *

"Mungary to Appledon, Appledon to Core, Core to Mun- NO it's a fake out! He passes to Appledon. She shoots-SHE SCORES!"

"Woo Hoo!" Ron shouted, pumping a fist into the air. Draco rolled his eyes and Ginny shot him a "look". Draco was still getting used to being a member of the Weasley family.

He was at a Cannon- Arrows quidditch game with Ginny (his recent wife) her brother Ron, and their friends Harry and Hermione. Draco and Ron had a little side bet: Ron on the Cannons and Draco on the Arrows.

"I can't see the game!" Ginny complained. She began to stand but Hermione and Draco put a hand on each of her shoulders, forcing her back down.

"The doctor said you need rest, Ginny," Draco exclaimed. "You shouldn't even be here; it's not healthy for the baby!"

"The baby will be fine," She said, looking down at her protruding stomach. Draco once again wondered how she had talked him into this. You don't bring your eight month pregnant wife to a quidditch game!

Ginny was stubborn as hell however and she felt her presence would be necessary to control her husband and her brother when the game got heated. Ginny had had a rough pregnancy and she wanted to finally get out of the house. Ron's wife, Kirsten, was nine months pregnant and she did NOT come to the game.

Draco gave Hermione a pleading look, and she sat down and distracted Ginny for while.

"Orange with the ball, passes to Hound, back to Or- NO intercepted by Core!" Draco groaned; the Cannons were back in possession.

"Core wide open!" The commentator continued. "She's going- she shoots- Curbson dives, CANNONS SCORE!" Ginny stood up and started cheering alongside her brother.

"That was brilliant, wasn't it?" She said. Draco turned to scold her, but she was doubled over, her hands on her knees.

"GINNY!" Draco cried, going very pale.

"I'm OK," She said, trying to stand. Then she put a hand on his shoulder "No, I'm not."

"What's wrong with her?" Ron asked frantically.

"Draco…" Ginny said. "It's time. The baby's coming…NOW!"

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed. He motioned to Hermione and in a nanosecond the two of them were supporting Ginny to help her walk down the stands. Ginny was at least a month early, but the doctor had warned Ginny that something like this could happen what with all the other complications she'd already experienced. Harry started magicking all their things into a bottomless bag, and Ron walked in front.

"Move aside, lady with a baby!" He shouted as he pushed his way through the crowd.

"Remind me, when this is over, to be mortally embarrassed." Ginny said, trying to grin. Hermione nodded, but Draco privately was grateful to Ron, because upon hearing his shouts, people moved aside for their little party.

Harry climbed into the driver seat of the Potter's little blue car. Ron got into the passenger's seat, and everyone else crammed into the floor of the backseat because Ginny, lying down, took up the whole seat.

(A/N: The Potter's have a car because they were both muggles and this is fanfiction and they need to have a car for this flashback! And naturally it has some interesting magical properties…)

"Step on it!" Draco shouted. He was jerked forward as Harry floored the gas.

"It'll be OK Ginny. Breathe." Draco looked up at Hermione in amazement. She was completely calm, although everyone else was panicked. How did she do it?

"Are we at the hospital yet?" Ron asked frantically. He was turned so that he could see his baby sister.

"Only a few blocks from St. Mungo's," Harry replied, turning so hard and fast that they left skid marks on the asphalt.

"What's that?" Hermione said. Draco heard it too…

Sirens.

"Holy shit!" Harry said. "Should I?"

"NO!" Ron and Draco cried in horror but Hermione said 'yes' with equal horror, so Harry obliged to his fiancee.(Naturally he doesn't have a death wish.) The policeman pulled up behind him, and took his sweet time, getting over to the car.

"Well now, you were going pretty fast, where's the fire?" He asked with that certain sneer that only policemen can truly carry off.

"Well, sir," Harry said being a calm gentleman. "My friend Ginny--"

"STUPEFY!" Draco yelled, shooting a jet of light from his wand at the heavy set officer. "Let's MOVE!"

"I don't think you should have done that…" Harry said vaguely as he slammed on the gas.

"You're going to be in so much trouble with the ministry!" Hermione scolded.

"Does it look like I give a damn?" He half-yelled in panic.

"Chill dear," Ginny said. "I'm fine." Draco bit his tongue in order to refrain from pointing out the obvious. The obvious, of course, being that Ginny was about to have a premature baby and that that couldn't possibly be 'fine'. Harry pulled down a hidden magical alley and parked right up in front of the hospital.

Ron ran ahead inside to warn the doctors while the other three pulled Ginny out of the back seat and helped her to the door.

"Hey! You can't leave this here!" Someone shouted as they reached the front door.

"TOW THE DAMN THING!" Harry shouted, becoming panicked himself.

"What's your name?" The blonde receptionist asked, cracking her blue bubble gum.

"Ginny Malfoy." Ginny replied, gasping.

"What's your ailment?" She asked in a bored sort of tone, as she inspected her bright green fingernails.

Draco nearly hit the roof! "SHE'S HAVING A BABY!" He shouted attracting curious glances and attention of most of the lobby.

"Keep your shirt on, honey," The receptionist replied lifting her wand. "Dr. Chang there's a baby coming." After a pause she then said. "Through the door," She pointed, rather rudely as she looked to the next person in line. (A wizard with a rather strange looking purple rash on his face).

Hermione made some comment about the door as they passed through it. Draco gritted his teeth and shook his head. She was being too calm for this!

"Mrs. Malfoy, lay down," The doctor commanded. Draco looked up at the doctor and started.

"Cho?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Oh, hello Harry. What are you doing here?" She asked.

"I'm here with them." He said in a baffled sort of tone as he motioned to the rest of them.

"Oh that's great. I'm glad to see that you and Draco are getting along. And I must say, congratulations on getting married Mr. Malfoy. And the baby too-"

"While this little reunion is touching, I'm afraid I have to say, Cho, I'M THE ONE HAVING THE BABY!" Ginny shouted, red in the face.

"Oh right," She said rushing over to Ginny.

"OK Mrs. Malfoy, breathe in, breathe out. I'm going to give you some potion that will have that baby right out, OK?" Ginny could only nod wordlessly as Cho poured the liquid down her throat.

"Be careful, that's my son." Draco warned, going to Ginny's side.

Hermione couldn't help it. "What's if it's a girl?" She shot back quite on accident.

"My first will NOT be a girl." Draco informed her rather harshly. "I'm a Malfoy."

"Don't remind me," Ron mumbled. Harry glanced at Ron nervously.

"Quiet, or I'm going to have to ask you all to leave," Cho commanded, pulling on her gloves and taking out her wand. She was hardly paying attention to them, however.

"Draco!" Ginny cried holding out her hand.

"Oh right!" Draco said grabbing her hand.

"Ow, ow, OW!" Draco said, dancing around trying to lessen the pain of Ginny's grip.

"Dang girl!" He managed to yell. Out of Draco's few virtues, stoicism wasn't one of them.

"Push!" Cho commanded.

Ron looked away. "I think I'm going to be sick," He said.

"Don't be silly. Child birth is a beautiful thing." Hermione said, her eyes glued to the scene unfolding. Harry made a horrible face as he too found he was unable to look away.

"You'd think, with all the magic we know, we'd find a way to make it more…beautiful to the eye," He finished lamely. They were all just standing there watching when suddenly a short, nearly bald wizard, with plastic gloves and thick glasses came running into the room at full speed.

"Dr. Chang!" The man exclaimed, sliding across the floor up to Cho and Ginny. Cho glanced at him for a moment looking severely annoyed.

"Yes?" She snapped, refocusing on Ginny.

"We need your help! There's a woman in labor and she can't get a hold of her husband."

"It's called denial that he left her," Cho snapped as she rolled her eyes. "And, as if you couldn't tell, I'm in THE MIDDLE OF A DELIVERY!"

"No, Doctor, you don't understand!" The little man screamed in a high voice.

"And who is it you want me to pull out of thin air?" Cho asked, her voice cracking from annoyance as she was trying to deliver a baby.

"I didn't ask his name," The man replied curtly as if he had any right to be upset with her.

"Then how do you suspect to find him?" Draco snapped, annoyed that all the attention wasn't focused on HIS son!

"The woman is a Mrs. Kirsten Weasley," The man sulked. "She said her husband was at the Quidditch game, but—"

"Kirsten Weasley?" Ron cried, his eyes widening in alarm. "That's my wife!"

"Well, my man, she's in labor," The doctor replied cheerily slapping Ron on the back. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"This one is my sister!" Ron shouted, looking as if he wanted to pound him senseless. The man sighed.

"Yes. It's like I've always said—"

"TAKE ME TO MY WIFE!" Ron bellowed, his face glowing scarlet.

"Oh yes…yes of course." He stammered. "Right this way, Mr. Weasley."

With that Ron left the room. Harry and Hermione were the future godparents of Ron's child, but the Potters stayed with Ginny, knowing Kirsten's baby wouldn't be born until after Ginny was done. _Great…_ Harry thought, _two for one; what a day!_

"It's almost here!" Cho exclaimed.

"Come on Ginny," Draco coached. "Little Max is almost here," The head and shoulders were coming and Ginny was screaming.

"Oh God!" Hermione said looking away. "I can't watch." The faces Harry made were some of the most contorted, weird, hilarious, faces ever seen. Hermione would look up every once in a while and quickly look away. (With a "Yuck" or "Ew")

A sharp cry pierced the air. Ginny gasped for breath and Cho sighed with relief. Draco was positively beaming and Ginny was crying as the small baby was gently laid in her arms.

"Well, what shall you name you beautiful baby girl?" Cho asked, wiping her brow. Everyone looked at Draco, who suddenly cried out.

"She's so BEAUTIFUL!" He said beginning to blink fiercely. _She's so…fuzzy._ Harry thought, making a new face. Ginny started to laugh through tears.

Harry and Hermione quietly had a word. "That is so gross!" Harry said.

"Well, no…it was…" Hermione searched for words…

"Gross!" Harry replied. "Besides, we've got the newest member of the Weasley family on the way. Let's split!" And they slipped out of the room.

"Well, what are you going to name her?" Cho asked again.

"Cora," Ginny said, smiling lovingly at her daughter. "Cora Maribelle Malfoy,"

"It's perfect!" Draco said, deliriously happy. Cora was the most beautiful, fuzzy, little thing he had ever laid eyes upon.

He held her trying not to cry and only thinking, _I'm a father! This baby girl is all mine_.

It was too wonderful to be true. This had to be a dream…

* * *

"GOOD MORNING!" Two blonde-haired twins with an evil glint in their eyes shouted at the top of their lungs. They glanced maliciously at one another and each grabbed a corner of bed-sheets and yanked.

Draco howled pathetically in shock as he was suddenly woken from his dream by his twin daughters who were now laughing and high-fiving.

"Not so loud, I'm barely awake for Merlin's sake." For a moment Draco thought he had said it; he was definitely thinking it, but then he realized that Cora, half asleep and leaning against the door frame had muttered it.

"Draco, I'm cold," Ginny mumbled, reaching for her husband. Draco shot a look at his teenaged daughters who were now looking very sweet and innocent. "We've got to help Sirius with his party," Cora explained through a yawn as she pushed her tangled red hair from her face. The twins, bright-eyed, and cheerful nodded in agreement.

"I'll tell Sirius what to do with his party…" Draco muttered, reaching for his wand.

"Watch it!" Someone shouted, as Draco's three daughters started a mad scramble for the door. Satisfied, Draco refrained from hexing his annoying offspring and instead settled for magicking the sheets back on the bed.

Oblivious to recent events Ginny mumbled happily, "That's better, thanks…"

* * *

Commitment

By: Harry Potter

* * *

Even in a dream beating Ireland was still as vivid and heart-stopping as the day it had happened. It had been the first of Harry's great successes on the quidditch pitch for England and to think he almost didn't make it to the game.

They'd had a light practice the day before, so as not to overdo it. They listened to countless charged speeches from their coach and their captain before they were finally let go early. Harry was about to head out with his teammates to dinner when that familiar feeling gripped him and made his heart skip a beat. Feigning illness Harry answered the IAA's call immediately.

He was the closest one in the area. One of their operatives had been caught undercover trying to infiltrate the black market unicorn trade in London and Harry had to get them out. The details of that night were slightly hazy as most of his memories of these operations became. After debriefing at the IAA parts of your memory were removed and stored in archives.

He vaguely remembered a battle in the London underground that nearly resulted in him being hit by a train. He was shortly thereafter apprehended by a few ruthless business wizards who were thankfully too stupid to realize that he was Harry Potter. They were, however, intelligent enough to realize he was another IAA agent and promptly knocked him out.

When he came to the next morning Harry found himself and his colleague tied up. The situation seemed hopeless. Thankfully, however, Harry was able to enlist the help of a passing snake and break them free. Then, it was only a matter of time before their captors returned and were taken captive themselves. Unfortunately those villians had long since been paroled from Azkaban. (Apparently kidnapping and drugging an International Auror wasn't severely punishable by law.) The undercover agent Harry rescued, he was annoyed to discover, had not been able to sufficiently gather evidence to put the criminals away for black market activity.

This was just one in a list of many assignments Harry had done for the IAA and one of rather minimal significance, except for the fact that he nearly missed his quidditch match that afternoon.

Harry showed up about an hour before the match in rather terrible shape. He, of course, had to fend off his coach who only "remembered" what was going on when Harry temporarily triggered his "memory". His teammates were rather pissed. He'd missed all the morning practice and only had a chance at a brief warm-up before they flew on the pitch. That was the first time he was late for game day because of work—he'd had similar incidences during practices but never on a game day.

Harry knew what he had to do. He had to win the game fast because he was feeling terrible and he had to show his teammates that even if he was late he was still a valuable asset to the team. Winning fast proved more difficult than he had anticipated.

Ireland, at the time, was a very stiff competitor and they played rough. Players were getting injured right and left and penalties were called every five minutes at least. Harry was the target of many a stray bludger that day—on a day where he _really_ could have done without the extra blows. He had a feeling his beaters were allowing it on purpose.

Of course, to top off a _perfect_ day, it started to thunderstorm half hour into the game. When one of the referees came within just a few feet of being struck by lightning they were about to call the game—England would have lost and their contention for the World Cup that year would have been seriously damaged.

Morgan, their captain had pulled a nasty foul to prevent the refs from ending the game and Harry searched in vain for the snitch. He was flying all the over the pitch at top speed since he couldn't see very far in front of him. He could still hear his heart pounding in his ears, the crowd shouting, his team shouting at him to save the game. His whole body ached and his head ached from exhaustion.

His heart leapt into his throat when he spotted the gold ball and his condition wasn't much improved as he rocketed into a steep dive. Both bludgers came at him from either side but he was so close to the snitch.

He had to take evasive action—he remembered not really thinking as he had both hands outstretched toward the snitch he did a somersault to avoid the bludgers. Those, of course, smashed in mid-air where his body had just been. As he was falling off his broomstick he reached out and caught the snitch by a wing and was just able to hold on as his captain only just barely caught him before he had an unpleasant meeting with the ground.

Oddly enough, as he was falling through air, before his captain saved him, he was only relieved that the game was over and not at all worried about possibly breaking his neck and dying in the next couple of seconds.

Coming off a win like that was the only thing that could have made him forget the awful events of the night before. The locker-room was as loud as a circus as everyone celebrated. Harry, feeling light-headed and beaten was still able to laugh and carry-on with them. Their coach, teary-eyed and emotional came in to announce a full front page article in the Daily Prophet and they were all to report tomorrow in uniform for the interview.

"Huge, massive party!" Someone was shouting at Harry as he stumbled out of the locker room, a stupid grin on his face. Cameras snapped and people cheered. He had to fend off several hundred drenched people who all wanted autographs.

"Oy, POTTER!" A familiar voice shouted just as he was about to apparate. Reluctantly Harry turned around to meet the grin of one of his teammates. "I found something that belongs to you," He said, shoving Hermione forward.

Her hair was damp and hung in a stringy mess around her wind-burned cheeks but her eyes were fiercely blazing. Immediately he knew something was different.

Both Harry and Hermione were extremely busy working but they'd kept up their long distance relationship rather well. They would have occasional visits seeing each other a day or two at a time with large gaps in between. Harry always tried to send something back to her whenever he traveled. They hadn't seen each other in a month.

Normally she didn't come to games. She worked too much and they both agreed that if she was going to come see him she should do it on a day when they could spend more time together.

"I thought you'd gotten over falling off your broom," She said, a playful smile on her lips.

Harry remembered just staring at her in wonder. The craziness of the last twenty-four hours was forgotten as he gazed into her eyes. She couldn't have come at a better time. "Can we go somewhere to talk?" She asked smiling sweetly.

Finally, he broke into a smile in return. "Of course," He replied, taking her hand and apparating to his flat. Guiltily, Harry's eyes locked onto the pile of dirty dishes around the sink but Hermione didn't notice. She set to work lighting a fire in the fireplace.

He came up behind her and moved the hair off her neck, breathing in her sweet smell. "I missed you," He murmured in her ear. She smiled faintly as she reached up and took a picture of the two of them off the mantle and wiped off the dust.

"Sirius was complaining that you hadn't responded to the owl he sent a week ago…" She informed him, replacing their picture.

"I've been busy," He replied, his eyes fixated on her.

"I was over for dinner the other night and—" He stopped her mouth with his but she was hesitant. He pulled back gently and narrowed his eyes slightly at her.

"Do you mind if I change into something dryer?" She asked, lowering her eyes. Harry shook his head once. As she turned to go Harry kept a hold of her hand. She turned back around to look up at him. He just smiled and then let it drop.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" Harry shouted to her in the other room.

"Of course. I have to be at the ministry at seven."

"Seven! AM?" Hermione only laughed in response. Harry shook his head disbelievingly, "You work too hard."

"That's better," Hermione said, re-emerging in fresh robes that she kept at Harry's. She had tied her hair back too.

"So, what's the occasion?" Harry asked, handing her a drink.

They both took a seat. Hermione took her drink and set it aside. She studied the countertop for a while.

"It's OK," Harry assured her. "You don't have to have a reason to come see me."

"No, it isn't that…" Harry lifted his eyebrows expectantly. She smiled nervously at him. "I'm going to have a baby," She said, the words tumbling from her mouth. She closed her eyes and waited. He could see her uncertainty and knew she had practiced telling him in front of a mirror. His blank mind groped for a response.

"What?" Harry finally managed to say and Hermione's eyes flew open. Apparently that wasn't the appropriate reaction. "No…I mean…oh…I don't know what to say," He admitted. He glanced at her and then downed his entire glass.

As the seconds ticked by a new thought seemed to hit him like a bludger in the stomach. Suddenly their relationship of casual, occasional rendezvous was catapulted into a life-long commitment. He was going to be a father. He was going to be raising a child. Harry Potter was going to be a father.

All of his quidditch injuries and bruises from the previous night's IAA escapade seemed to hit him at once. He felt now more than ever as if he'd been pummeled by giants. Somewhere the rational part of his mind was telling him to get a grip. He had to control his emotions for Hermione's sake. Certainly she wasn't taking this much better than him.

"Listen, Harry," Hermione said, taking a steadying breath. "I don't expect you to make sweeping changes for me, OK? We didn't plan this. I know you're a very important and busy person. I mean, I know you'll do the right thing. But I'm not asking you to quit your job or anything…"

"Hermione," Harry said, waving his hand around. "Stop it. I'm not going to put…ambition or personal glory ahead of a human being." Hermione, though she had been trying to prepare herself for this moment felt the tears well-up anyway. "I guess we should get married. Wow…"

"Yeah…" Hermione agreed.

"And we'll move to London. You'll be near the ministry and I'll be close enough to the pitch for practice. And we can build a house and next year we'll just…hire someone to help out during quidditch season."

"Harry…"

"No, it will work. I can be home more than you think. I'll just do far less public relations stunts for England and I can cut my game time stays way down—barring of course, unseen IAA involvement."

"That's not what you want to do. I mean, we agreed that we wouldn't try to start something serious like that. We were just going to be…friends with benefits for as long as we needed to. We were both going to focus on our careers..."

"Life happens Hermione," Harry cut in. "It's not what we had in mind but we don't have a choice do we? Who says this won't be our happily ever after anyway?"

"Oh my God…Are we really doing this?"

"We're doing this," Harry replied, taking her hand.

"I don't know if I'm ready,"

"Ready or not, we're out of choices."

"I love you," Hermione whispered, squeezing his hand.

"I love you too," Harry replied, gently wiping a tear off her cheek. She turned up her face for a kiss...

* * *

"You better get up, Harry. You've got to go Christmas shopping," A voice seemed to say from far away. Harry's eyes flew open but that wasn't Hermione's cheek he was stroking…

Skyla's blonde hair was falling in his face, tickling his cheek. He smiled as his mind refocused to the present. "In a minute," He replied, sleepily, dropping his hand to his chest.

He closed his eyes and wondered why in the world he would dream of that now. It was true he'd see Hermione tonight but usually if he thought about her at all it was about their divorce, not when she got pregnant with James.

"Do you think I should get something for my ex-wife?" Harry mumbled into the pillow.

"Did you get her something last year?" Skyla asked. He could hear the frown in her voice.

"Flowers," He replied.

"Then get her flowers again."

"What do you want for Christmas?"

"Harry…" Skyla said, turning his face toward hers. "It's Christmas Eve, please tell me you're joking." Harry had met Skyla in Paris. She was there at an international summit meeting representing the ministry of magic and he was in town for the unveiling of a new broom from Nimbus.

For the last six months they'd been seeing more and more of each other and tonight he was going to take her home to the family for Christmas.

"She's not going to like you," Harry said, after a while.

"Who?" Skyla asked, her brows furrowing as she wondered what was in his mind.

"Hermione."

"Oh. Well…does that matter?" Harry laughed.

"I should tell Sirius I'm bringing you."

"You aren't allowed to have guests?"

"He'll be upset if he doesn't have a Christmas gift for you." Skyla rolled her eyes.

"I doubt that. But he will be upset if you don't have a Christmas gift for him."

"OK, I'm getting up…"

* * *

Spellbound

By: Angela Star Black Thompson Star Black

* * *

"Oh the weather outside is frightful but the fire is so delightful!" Bill Weasley sang picking out random chords on his old guitar.

"So true," Sirius Black agreed, glancing warily at the window. Sierra and Bill had come over for a nice quiet dinner to visit with their friends but in the mean time an ugly winter storm had blown up and surrounded the mansion and the grounds sealing its inhabitants inside.

"Bill stop!" Sierra said, laying a hand on his guitar as he continued to sing and be silly. "You'll scare Ebony."

Angie hid her laugh with her hand. "That's a little harsh, Sierra," She said critically. Sierra just rolled her eyes and knocked her husband playfully on the shoulder.

"Seriously, nothing could scare this child," Sirius said, patting the top of five year old Ebony's jet black head. Ebony turned green innocent eyes on her dad and smiled nervously. She knew they were talking about her.

"I have to put up with this sort of thing all the time," Sierra said, as Bill continued trying to figure out how to play "Let it Snow" by ear. He ignored another punch.

"Well I think it's amazing that he can do that, personally," Angie said, winking at Bill. "I can't play any instruments."

"But you can sing beautifully, almost as well as me," Sirius said playfully. Angie rolled her eyes.

"You sing?" Bill asked as he stopped picking at his strings. Angie shrugged. Behind her Sirius was nodding and mouthing "yes". Bill grinned and turned back to Ebony.

"Do you know any Christmas carols?" He asked her. She glanced around as if considering her audience and then started to sing softly.

"We wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!" The second time through Bill was able to—for the most part—play through the song with her. This accompaniment and center of attention delighted her to no end as they went through more and more.

"Do you know this one?" Bill asked, starting to play. "Away in a manger, no crib—oops—crib for a bed, the li—little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head, er…head," He said, as he kept correcting himself.

"Let me see that thing," Sirius said, taking the guitar from Bill. Sierra giggled as Sirius put the strap over his shoulder and assumed the play position.

"I forgot you used to play," She said.

"Just a little…let's see if I remember how," He picked at it a bit and then hit a chord. "Here's one I remember," He said, grinning as he started to play _Mary had a Little Lamb_. Ebony started to sing happily and Sirius sang with her.

"Oh, very good!" Bill said, mockingly clapping for the two. Sirius shot him a look.

"Here now, how about a little _Greensleeves?_ That's a bit more difficult," He said, starting to play.

"Yes, dear, that's an accidental," Angie replied. He glanced at her and tried again and she nodded. "C-sharp, Sirius," She corrected.

"You play it then," He said, stopping.

"I don't know how to play that thing," She protested. So he started to play again.

"No, listen," Angie broke in. "_What child is this, who, laid to rest on Mary's lap is sleeping? Whom angels greet with anthems sweet While shepherds watch are keeping?_ Did you hear that? _This, this, is Christ the King, whom shepherds guard and angels sing; Haste, haste to bring Him laud, the Babe, the son of Mary!_ Are you going to play?"

"Oh right," Sirius muttered as Angie started the next verse.

"_Why lies He in such mean estate Where ox and ass are feeding? Good Christian, fear; for sinners here The silent Word is pleading. This, this is Christ the King, whom shepherds guard and angels sing; Haste, haste to bring Him laud, the Babe, the Son of Mary!" _Sirius stopped and fell silent.

"I wish you'd sing more often," He said softly. Angie's cheeks reddened slightly. "Do you remember that Christmas Eve…?" Sirius continued; Angie nodded quickly, becoming more embarrassed.

"Play something else!" Ebony demanded of her father. Startling him out of his memory he turned to her and smiled. He considered for a second and then started to play something else. Something Bill had never heard before and Sierra wasn't sure she recognized it either. They frowned at him for a minute. He seemed to get the hang of it a little better as he went on.

Angie stared at the guitar. She knew she knew that song but couldn't, for the life of her, put her finger on it. Suddenly Sirius looked up at her grinning and she realized what it was. She gasped and then started to sing the chorus. Grinning Sirius joined her.

"_I don't know whether to kill you or to kiss you Both options have their appeal I don't know if I really should hate you Or if these feelings are real I haven't yet decided if you're what I want But when you're around me I can't see straight I don't know if this is loathing or love!" _

Bill laughed. "That was great; what was it?"

"Original Marauders," Sirius replied, smiling widely.

"The Marauders did NOT write that song!" Angie interjected. "You and I did."

"That's true; but we, the Marauders, played it. It sounded much better when James played lead guitar and I played bass. Hey, do you remember the one…?" He started to play a bit. "Damn, sorry, I'm not used to the melody on this one…"

"Oh wait…it was like: _Never said I was a good boy. Who told you that?_"

"That's it!" Sirius said pointing at her.

"I don't remember the words after that…" Angie said, straining her memory to reach back over twenty years ago.

"_Never said I followed the rules or even the crowd."_ Sierra sang and all three joined for the last line of the chorus.

"_So I'm just a little bad boy but I'm still in love with you!" _Sirius finished it out with a little improvised guitar. Laughing he handed Bill his guitar back.

"Take it back before it gets worse," Sirius said.

"The Marauders were good," Sierra argued. "James, Sirius, Remus and Pete...Peter Pettigrew had a band. James sang," Sierra explained to her husband who was grinning.

"That is brilliant. I love it!" Bill said. "I've written a few songs of my own but I've never performed them and it's just me on guitar. And, as Sierra pointed out, my singing voice isn't the best."

"You sing fine," Sirius said. Sierra rolled her eyes.

"You sound like me at my wedding," Angie told Bill. "…to Josh…I wrote several songs but I had a hard time convincing the band we hired to try and play them," She sighed. "That was good work too! They're lost now though…unless Josh has them in storage with the wedding stuff."

"I wonder if Remus still remembers his parts," Sirius said thoughtfully.

"You're not starting a band," Angie said, reading his mind like only she could.

"Oh come on, Ang, you could sing instead of James and Bill and I will play guitar and Remus—"

"No, Sirius," Angie said sternly. She rolled her eyes at her husband. "You're over forty now, you're not starting a band!"

"Shh! We don't speak of that," Sirius said, referring to his age. Sierra grinned.

"Ebony, it's past your bed time," Angie said, startling Ebony who had been flipping through her pile of books.

"NO!" Ebony cried.

"How about if we all sing one more song before you go to bed?" Sirius asked. Ebony folded her arms across her chest, furrowed her brow and grudgingly agreed. "OK, then, why don't you ask Bill nicely to play something for us?"

They all sang a rousing rendition of Jolly old Saint Nicholas and sent Ebony off to bed.

The next morning Angie woke up singing "_I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you". _

Sirius must have had it in his head too. When he left for work he made a joke about killing her or kissing her.

All morning long she couldn't, try as she might, shake the songs of her past. After hesitating for several minutes Angie finally owled her ex-husband. Later, she had almost forgotten she had owled Josh until she received a reply while she watching Ebony finish up her lunch.

Leaving Ebony in the care of her many nannies and house attendants Angie hurried off to London, both thrilled and filled with dread. She rushed into Gringotts hoping Josh hadn't been waiting long. She'd left as soon as she could.

Griphook greeted her immediately. "Good day to you Mrs. Black. I will assist you—"

"Thank you Griphook," Angie said in gobbledegook bowing slightly to him. "But I'm here to meet Joshua Thompson."

"Oh…you mean that unpleasant fellow?" Griphook asked with a sour look on his face. Angie followed Griphook's pointed fingernail across the room and spotted Josh skulking in the corner.

"That's him. Thanks Griphook." Angie said, hurrying across the room. Josh scarcely glanced at her.

"Let's make this quick, I'm on my lunch hour," He said gruffly. She nodded and followed him into the vaults. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me what this is about?" Josh asked.

"Oh, sure," Angie said agreeably. "I was hoping to find one of my notebooks or the songs I wrote for our wedding. You didn't throw that stuff out did you?"

"I kept it all. Don't know why though," He said callously. Angie took the comment with a grain of salt. It wasn't as if he really cared about her, of that she was sure. He was just trying to annoy her.

They arrived at the end of a tunnel with three doors. "What's behind door number one?" Angie said, in a mock announcer voice as Josh unlocked the door on the right. Josh remained silent.

The little room wasn't organized and boxes and objects were thrown haphazardly across the ground. The two of them picked their way through to the middle. "I think the box with the wedding pictures is right around here…" Josh said, looking around. "Oh here…" He said, kicking a box toward her.

Angie bent down and opened it up and started sifting through the contents. Josh loomed over her and watched. Angie glanced up. "Are you worried I'm going to steal something from you?" She asked.

"No," He said, looking quickly away.

"I'm sorry," Angie muttered, as she pushed some things out of her way. She picked up a loose picture of Kirsten dressed up as their flower girl and smiled. "She was so cute, wasn't she?"

She looked up at Josh and her smiled faded. He nodded slowly. Guiltily she tossed the picture back in the box.

"She has children now?" Josh asked.

"Two," Angie replied, still searching. She paused to look up at him again.

"I'm sorry Josh," She said softly. He shrugged.

"As long as she's happy," He replied.

"Very happy," Angie agreed.

"You look well too." Angie blushed—he was being uncharacteristically nice.

"Thank you Josh, you don't look—"

"Oh don't," Josh snapped. "I know what I look like."

"I was just going to say you look very sharp in white."

"I'm not wearing white," Josh said. Angie grinned and turned the picture frame around in her hand. Josh did look very sharp in his white tux and Angie looked beautiful as well. Josh took the picture from her.

"You were happy then, weren't you?" He asked, handing the picture back to her. She stood up.

"I think I was…" She said, trying to remember back that far. "For a while…"

"Me too," Josh agreed. "I really did care for you and Kirsten."

"I know Josh," Angie said, painfully.

"Yeah, you do. You exploited me for it too." He snapped. She couldn't argue with him so she stayed silent. This was the first time she had really seen him since he had found out he didn't really have a daughter. He deserved some time to say a few things.

He nodded silently as if agreeing with something in his head. "I'm getting married." Angie's eyes widened in surprise. She was missing the train of thought that led to that statement.

"Congratulations," She managed to mumble.

"I realized I lost what I thought I didn't care about. Maybe it's a little late but I want to settle down. I was so bitter for so long…" He seemed to realize he was still talking out loud and stopped himself.

Angie stared at him for a minute wondering if she had possibly underestimated him. Certainly at one point in time she had believed wholeheartedly that he would care more deeply for Kirsten than Sirius would. After the divorce she became convinced he could only care about himself. That day in the vault it seemed to her that a bit of the old Josh was seeping back out from under the bitter exterior that had been so carefully constructed.

"I've found what I was looking for…" She said quietly, clutching the notebook and a few loose papers to his chest. "Thank you…" Josh looked at her and nodded. Impulsively she reached out and gave him a hug and was relieved when he put his arms around her and patted her on the back.

"Thanks Ang. Take care of yourself," He said, smiling and brushing her cheek. She smiled in return.

That night when Sirius returned home Angie was bursting with excitement as she hummed her songs over and over again. Sirius and Ebony sat by and patiently listened and praised over a dozen of them before Sirius decided they'd heard enough for one night and tucked his little girl into bed.

"Where did you find them?" Sirius asked, reading one over her shoulder.

"I had Josh let me into his storage at Gringotts," Angie explained. "Sirius, he's getting married." She told him about their conversation and how he had hugged her. Sirius shrugged.

"He's probably on the twelve step program and had to make his peace with everyone," Sirius reasoned.

"Sirius, don't tease!" Angie said. "If that's true he'll be apologizing to you next." Sirius looked like he might be sick.

Next week at Christmas all the family gathered at the Black's to open presents and, in general, be merry. Late that afternoon, when everyone was full of food, and lazing about Angie pulled out her songs and started showing them to Bill. Enthusiastically he tried to play a couple of them. He shared his own sheet music with her too and by the end of the night they were regaling the family with a little concert.

After they finished at least the tenth song Harry interrupted. "Not that this isn't spellbindingly exciting but Hermione and I are going to head home. The kids need rest. Merry Christmas everyone…"

* * *

"Walkin' in a Winter Wonder Land!" Sirius bellowed somewhere near Angie's ear. Startled, she jumped and accidentally knocked Sirius in the chin.

Laughing she sat up in bed. "Serves you right for waking me up like that!" She scolded, but then kissed him on his cheek.

"Well, my quiet singing didn't wake you…so I had to move on to desperate measures. It's Christmas Eve, we'll have guests in--" He looked down and checked his watch. "--Thirteen hours and eleven minutes and we've got loads of work to do." Angie sighed reluctantly.

As she slipped out of bed and listened to Sirius's song fade quietly away as he left she remembered what she had been dreaming about. She remembered how excited her and Bill had become that Christmas. To the point of obsession it seemed.

A year after that Christmas Angie, Bill, Fred Weasley, and a few of Bill's friends had their first performance outside of Black and Black Cauldron's store in Diagon Alley to celebrate their grand opening at their new location. From that small beginning _Spellbound_ skyrocketed into international fame in the wizarding world—so much so that Bill quit his job and he and Angie started their own record company and produced their own records.

Which reminded Angie of something. She checked her watch and hurriedly finished brushing her hair. Bill and Sierra were probably already waiting for her. They were going to practice a new song this morning before Sirius went into extreme Christmas decorating over drive.

* * *

Complicated

By: Hermione Granger Potter

* * *

Hermione sat in the stands of the Quidditch pitch, cheering louder than anyone around her. She watched her husband, Harry, fly through the air with all the grace and agility of a Greek athlete of old. Her heart fluttered. She had been married to him for two years, and she still felt like a newlywed.

Suddenly, Harry took a tremendous dive. The crowd stood on its feet, watching in anticipation as the opposing seeker took off at the same time. At first Hermione thought it was a Wronski feint, but then she saw a glint of gold. In the next moment, it was in Harry's fist.

The crowds started screaming, but Hermione screamed above them all, pushing her way down onto the pitch. His fellow teammates landed and threw Harry up onto their shoulders. Hermione looked up at him, his eyes alight as he held the snitch aloft.

She had to wait for nearly an hour and a half for him to come out of the locker rooms. He came out swaggering and grinning. Hermione rushed forward to congratulate him. He gave her a peck on the cheek, and then turned to the rest of the crowd waiting outside. He gave them a smile, and started signing autographs.

Hermione frowned. Harry had promised they would leave as soon as they could. James and Kara, their small children, were with Sierra and Bill, and she didn't want to bother them for long. She tried to get her husband's attention, but he didn't notice her. It was then that she realized something.

Harry Potter had changed.

A few years later, Hermione was sitting down at the dining room table. The best china was set out, with two places. A soft romantic candlelight filled the room. Glass goblets and the best silverware gleamed. In the kitchen, dinner was getting cold. Hermione was sitting at the table by herself. She glanced at the clock.

Harry was supposed to get home two hours ago. James, now four, his little sister Kara, and his little brother Apollo were with Ron and Kirsten. This was supposed to be a special night for just Harry and Hermione.

The problem was Harry wasn't home yet.

Anger seethed through her. Today was their fifth anniversary (and their son Apollo's first birthday), and he had sworn to be home on time. But no, he was probably out getting drunk with his teammates, completely forgetting about his wife sitting at home all alone. They had celebrated Apollo's birthday early in order to have their anniversary to themselves.

Hermione bent her head, trying to hold back the tears. She loved Harry, she always had. But he had turned into something he wasn't. He had always been famous, to be sure, but since his Quidditch career had been so successful…

Why did he have to make things so complicated? A series of scenes flashed through Hermione's mind as she saw front page newspaper stories and magazines all featuring a grinning, euphoric Harry. Hermione laughed when she saw him swagger around, knowing that underneath he was klutzy and kind. But even as she laughed, she cried. What had happened to the man she loved?

At that moment, the door opened, and Hermione's head snapped up. She quickly brushed away the tears that had escaped despite her efforts. Harry came into the room grinning.

"Hello, Hermione," He said, his cheeks rosy. _So he had been drinking_, Hermione thought bitterly. She hated being right sometimes. "Where are the kids?"

"At Ron and Kirsten's," Hermione replied icily. Harry frowned.

"Why?"

"You don't know?" She replied, her eyes widening.

"Did I miss something?" Harry remarked, looking at her fancy dress and the dinner table. "What's for dinner? You want pizza? I can order out, and—"

"ARGH!" Hermione threw up her hands. "Harry Potter, do you realize what today IS?"

"Uh…" Harry gulped and tugged at his collar.

"It's our ANNIVERSARY!" She shouted, then turned and tried not to cry. Harry's eyes widened.

"Oh my God, Hermione…" He approached her. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't touch me," She snapped, shoving away as he tried to hold her.

"I'm sorry Hermione, but after the game we—"

"I'm tired of your excuses!"

"I'm SORRY, Hermione!" He shouted, his temper getting the better of him. "I forgot, okay? What else do you want me to say?"

"I don't want you to say anything!" She screeched, spinning around, her tears flowing freely. "I want you to remember!"

"Remember what?"

"THAT I'M YOUR WIFE!" Hermione cried, then turned around and begin to sob.

"Hermione…" Harry pleaded. Hermione turned around and ran past him up the stairs. He heard a door slam. When he went upstairs to go to bed, he found the door locked. Cursing, he went back downstairs.

For a while, Harry actually came home on time and spent time with Hermione. But then he began to change again. More and more often, Hermione found herself alone with James, Kara, and their small son Apollo.

Hermione was confused and felt alone. She loved her children more than anything, but she needed Harry. Yet he was never there. She didn't blame him entirely. He worked hard. Quidditch was a very physical game and when he traveled he was becoming one of the IAA's most efficient snoops. Harry assured her that he refused to do anything too dangerous but the long hours he stayed away worried her still.

Apollo was five years old when Hermione heard the doorbell ring. She opened it to find a young vixen of a blonde flipping her hair on her doorstep. Hermione looked down in distaste.

"Yes?" She asked, ignoring James and Kara who were arguing loudly in the kitchen.

"Is Mr. Potter home?" The woman asked in a voice like honey. Hermione felt her stomach tighten, though she couldn't yet know why.

"No, may I tell him who asked?"

"Not necessary. Thank you, miss!" The young woman replied, and walked away, apparating at the end of the driveway. _Mrs._, Hermione thought firmly in her head, _Mrs._ Hermione shut the door and closed her eyes, leaning against the frame, feeling like she had eaten something sour.

Taking a shuddering breath, she straightened herself and told herself that she was overreacting and it wasn't fair to assume the worst. She then continued with her domestic duties. Harry came home late that night looking very happy. Hermione couldn't help but wonder if the blonde had found him.

Harry invited Hermione to come to the party at Thomas Morgan's (the captain of Harry's team) house after a huge win. Hermione primped for hours for the party. She felt like she was finally becoming involved in Harry's life again, and she didn't want to miss the opportunity.

She met Harry there. He smiled down at her, and introduced her to all the team members. There were several people there that weren't on the team that Harry also had to be introduced to. Usually Hermione felt uncomfortable at such formal gatherings, but she got involved in a lively conversation with Mrs. Morgan.

After a while, Mrs. Morgan (or Greta, as she had insisted Hermione call her) went to get their champagne glasses refilled. It was then that Hermione realized that she had lost track of Harry. Her eyes searched the room.

She almost missed him. He was in a corner, talking in a quiet voice with a young, vibrant blonde who looked fresh out of Hogwarts. Hermione's eyes flashed and her cheeks flamed, she recognized the blonde as the woman who had appeared one her doorstep just a week ago. What the hell was he doing?

She crossed the room quickly, her anger pushing her on. This is what they call the seven year itch, she thought distantly. She came up behind her husband and the pretty young blonde and coughed loudly to announce her presence. Neither noticed.

"Ahem," She muttered. Nothing. "A-HEM!" Once again, nothing. "HARRY JAMES POTTER!" She finally yelled, losing patience. This time she did catch their attention, along with that of about half the room.

"Who is this, Harry?" The blonde asked, frowning at Harry. His cheeks were on fire as he stared at Hermione, his eyes flashing. "I don't believe we've been introduced."

"Allow me," Hermione said rudely, not allowing Harry time to answer. "Hermione Potter. Harry's WIFE!"

"Oh!" The blonde turned to Harry with a giggle. "I forgot you were married!"

"That much was obvious," Hermione replied acidly. She turned and marched away toward the doors leading into the Morgan's garden. She swept right by Greta. Harry, after muttering something to the blonde, followed her.

"Hermione—" He began once they were both outside.

"Don't even start with me." She said coldly, not turning. Harry sighed before trotting to keep up with her.

"Hermione, it's not what it looked like—"

"Oh yeah?" Hermione stopped suddenly and whipped around. Her eyes were blazing, her cheeks were flaming with anger, embarrassment, and the cold night air. "Then what was it, Harry?" Harry started to answer, but he couldn't find any words. "Exactly what I thought." She replied, then turned and kept walking.

"Hermione…don't go!" He cried desperately, once again starting to follow her. She coolly ignored him, her high heels clicking on the pavement. "What, do you expect to walk all the way home?" He finally snapped in exasperation.

"No." Hermione spun around. "That was purely for effect. I'm going to my mother's house." And with that she disapparated.

The next morning, when she got home, she found a suitcase and all Harry's clothes, along with his broomstick, gone.

* * *

Hermione sat up in bed as her alarm clock exploded in the form of loud Muggle music. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The words of the song sounded oddly familiar. "_Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated; I see the way your acting like your somebody else, getting me frustrated—" _The female's voice stopped abruptly as Hermione switch the radio off in annoyance. She got up and got dressed, knowing her three children were impatiently waiting for her to come downstairs so she could save them from impossible decorating standards. Sirius got crazy around the holidays…

She was still pondering over her dream as she slipped out of bed. She and Harry had separated years ago, why should she dream of that memory now?

* * *

Brotherly Love + Sisterly Hate Much Eye Rolling

By: Remus Lupin

* * *

"Well, it's not my fault you hate your sister," Remus pointed out. "She happens to be a good friend of mine."

"Hmph," Holly replied. "I don't understand WHY." Remus rolled his eyes.

"Holly, she's your sister. Isn't there ANY positive emotions there?"

"No," The brunette replied haughtily. Remus sighed.

"Well, she deserves to know anyway," He said stubbornly.

"I figured you would insist," Holly replied, sighing. "But why do I have to see her now?" She whined. "A hastily written letter would do the trick." Remus rolled his eyes and ignored that last bit.

"Because we are going to tell her now…and Sirius. I don't know about you but I could use some moral support on this."

"Ugh," Holly threw up her hands. "I give up. I can't argue with you."

"But that's why you love me, right?" He grinned cockily. She gave him a look.

"Don't do that. You look like Sirius when you do that."

"Somebody say my name?" A voice called from the living room. Holly rolled her eyes.

"Coming in without knocking," She muttered. "We could've been busy or something!"

"Doing what?" Remus asked in amusement.

"You don't even want me to answer that question," She said playfully. She then swept from the kitchen into the room where Sirius and her cursed sister were waiting for them.

"Hello, Holly!" Sirius chirped. Both sisters rolled their eyes.

"No hello for me?" Remus asked, following Holly out of the kitchen.

"Hello, Moony!" Sirius complied in the exact same voice. Two more eye rolls.

"You two are awfully quiet today," Remus remarked, looking between Angie and Holly. They both took the hint, and mumbled a begrudged greeting. Remus and Sirius exchanged looks.

"Can we go and get this over with?" Holly finally snapped. "Where are we going?"

"To a bar, of course!" Sirius replied, as if this were obvious. Holly exchanged a look with her husband. "Any suggestions on which one Remus?"

"Well, we could try this one place down on Ireland Road…" He said carefully avoiding the gaze of his wife.

"Done!" Sirius exclaimed. "Let's link arms now!" No one obeyed. "What?" He asked, injured. "Aren't we going down the yellow brick road?"

"Are you sure you're not already drunk?" Holly asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Let's GO already!" Angie burst out, shooting Holly a look. It was the same kind of thing she would've said, but she didn't seem to think her sister had the right to criticize her husband.

"Alright, Angie, no reason to get in a tizzy," Sirius said, rolling his eyes. "Ireland Road isn't far, we'll walk!"

This turned out to be a bad idea, because of the awkward silence that was already descending upon the group. Remus and Sirius tried as hard as they could to keep the conversation up, but nothing seemed to be working. Remus rolled his eyes behind the girl's back at their stubbornness, and Sirius seemed to share his sentiments. Why did they have to be so difficult?

However, Remus was worried enough as it was without having to worry about the hatred between Angie and Holly. He was getting going to be a father. It had occurred to him that he would be the last marauder to become one and he was going to seek Sirius' advice when he realized that he was going to Sirius Black about advice concerning a long term relationship and raising a child.

For one thing, look at the first sixteen years of HIS marriage!

But that, of course, wasn't Padfoot's fault…and it wasn't really Angie's either, he supposed. They were a good enough couple now. At least, there were no fights even half the magnitude of those of their school days. That was probably a good thing, especially for the poor innocent house…er…elegantly furnished mansion that the Black family called home. Remus pondered if the house had feelings, and what it would think about housing Sirius, ex-convict but still a clown, Angie, crazy and stubborn, and baby Ebony, who was quite a mini-Marauder already, not to mention Ron and Kirsten dropping by unexpected in the middle of the night…and Harry occasionally.

Poor thing.

It suddenly occurred to Remus that he was pitying a house. He shook his head, and realized they were (finally) approaching their destination.

"Why do you build me up, build me up, Buttercup baby just to let me down, let me down—"

"Sirius, what are you doing?" Angie asked, her eyebrows raising.

"Singing," He replied. "Everybody now! Why do you build me up?"

"Build me up!" Remus echoed, getting into the spirit of things. It was better than pitying a house.

"Buttercup, baby just to let me down—"

"—let me down—"

"And mess me around—"

"SHUT UP!" Both women shouted in unison, and then glared at the other for daring to say the same thing she did.

"Jinx!" Sirius cried happily. "You guys can't talk until I say your names."

"Whatever," Holly rolled her eyes. However, she had failed to realize that Sirius had pulled out his wand. In the next moment, both sisters were under the influence of a silencing charm. Holly was stomping and Angie was screaming…or at least she would've been. Remus started laughing, which was probably not a good idea. Silencing spells, as Remus was about to discover, do not hinder a woman's ability to slap a man.

"OW!" He cried, glaring at his wife. She tried to reply, but of course no sound came out.

"Right this way, ladies," Sirius grinned as he opened the door. Angie swept past him, shortly followed by Holly. Remus wasn't exactly a master lip reader, but he got the distinct impression they were both swearing fluently.

The waiter came around to get their drinks, and Sirius ordered beer for everyone. Remus watched in amusement as the sisters tried to argue, both with each other and their men. He knew he should probably fight on their behalf, but he'd never seen either of them in such an interesting situation. After looking them both over carefully, he caught Sirius's eye and winked.

"So, Padfoot, how about those Arrows?"

The two men enjoyed discussing Quidditch, chugging their beer, and teasing the sisters to fury. Perhaps, if Remus had paid a bit more attention, he would've seen the little nods and winks they were exchanging. Instead (after a few mugs of the beer) Remus said amiably to Sirius "You know, Padfoot, I think we've finally found a way to make them get along."

"Quite right," He grinned at Angie, raising his mug. "Cheers, to my dear SILENT wife!" At that moment, the sisters struck. They both leapt on Sirius with enough force to tackle a football player, let alone the slightly tipsy form of Sirius Black. (He really wasn't drunk, it took a lot more alcohol than that to affect Sirius. Sirius was just naturally tipsy.) He fell over and the beer spilled all over him. The women cracked up…or at least, they would have if they hadn't been under the confounded silencing charm. Remus was laughing outright, finding the whole situation very amusing. The girls turned their glare on him, and he quickly shut up.

"Aw, c'mon ladies," Sirius whined. "You know you're loving this!" At that moment, Angie stalked across the room, from somewhere produced a scrap of paper and a ball point pen. She seated herself comfortably in her chair, grinned wickedly at her husband, and wrote one word on the tiny slip of paper.

Sofa.

Remus doubled over with laughter as Sirius's eyes widened. Angie just smiled smugly…not that she could do much else, mind you.

"Honey," Sirius whined. "You're no fun." Her smug look didn't alter. "Oh alright. You're co-conspirator too?" Angie shrugged, not wanting to give an opinion on her sister in any way. Sirius rolled his eyes. "Fine," He mumbled. "Angie and Holly, I release you!" He cried dramatically, lifting the silencing charms. In that same instant, Angie and Holly pulled out their own wands. Before the men knew what had happened jets of light were being shot at them. Sirius opened his mouth to swear.

Nothing came out.

"Score!" Angie cried, and gave Holly a high five. Sirius and Remus were stunned to silence, or would have been, if the girls hadn't already taken care of that for them.

"So, Angie, have you seen those adorable sweaters at Hogsmeade?" Holly grinned, playing the same game the boys had earlier. They summoned the waiter, and both ordered the most expensive wine on the menu.

There was a problem with being under the silencing charm; the whole point in being there was to tell Sirius and Angie about the baby! Remus raised an eyebrow at Holly wondering just exactly what she was going to do with her very expensive glass of wine.

Luckily, Remus didn't have time to get overly worked up. Holly and Angie could only maintain civil conversation for so long. Within ten minutes, the two remaining Marauders had their voices back. Remus coughed loudly, and Sirius continued on the swearing rant for several seconds before he realized his voice had been restored to him.

"Well, I feel stupid." He said finally.

"You ARE stupid," Angie reminded him cheerfully. He rolled his eyes, which caused Remus to roll his eyes, then Holly rolled her eyes, then, Angie rolled hers. This was getting real old real quick.

"So, is there a point to this?" Sirius asked, taking another swig of beer. He had meant the question to be rhetorical. Both he and Angie were surprised to see Remus and Holly exchanged worried looks. Holly wished she could drink. This was exactly the kind of situation where alcohol would have eased the tension a bit.

"What's going on?" Angie demanded. She hated being "left out of the loop" as she would say. It was a phrase Remus never quite understood, some confounded expression she had picked up in America no doubt.

"We have…something to tell you," Holly muttered, almost stuttering under the direct glare from her sister.

"We?" Sirius repeated. "As in plural for the first person?"

This statement was so ludicrous Remus, Angie and Holly couldn't help but roll their eyes.

"Well?" Sirius snapped, half annoyed, half amused. Remus and Holly went back to exchanging looks.

"Just spit it out!" Angie cried. Holly gave Remus a "you-got-me-into-this-condition-and-you-can-explain-it" look. Remus just rolled his eyes, trust her to make HIM say it.

"Holly and I…" Remus paused for dramatic effect.

"YES!" Angie looked as if she were about to burst an artery.

"We've decided we want to take our relationship to the next level."

"WHAT!" Sirius and Angie cried in unison. Holly was looking at him as if he were crazy.

"Well, we hit a plateau," Remus explained patiently though he admittedly had no idea what he was saynig. "And we thought—"

"But you're already married," Angie pointed out, looking confused.

"Remus," Sirius said solemnly. "You're a big boy now. I'm not going to explain the birds and the bees."

"No Sirius, for God's sake!"

"Just get the bloody hell on with it!" Angie exclaimed, her cheeks flaming at the implied…alright, blatantly obvious insult.

"Oh Lord!" Holly exclaimed. "WE'RE PREGNANT!"

The entire bar went silent. Remus put his head in his hand, Holly's cheeks went red as her eyes traveled the room, and Angie looked as if she had announced the arrival of the Final Judgment. Sirius looked from Remus to Holly, then broke out with a broad grin.

"DRINKS FOR EVERYONE!" He cried. "And a cup of tea or something for the new mama."

"Hip hip hooray!" Someone in the back shouted as the bartender started preparing the drinks, muttering darkly under his breath about bad credit.

"Sirius!" Angie cried. "Just because you're a millionaire doesn't mean you should spend all that money!" Sirius looked pointedly at her wine. She shut up quickly.

"So Remus," Sirius continued, looking at his mortified friend. "Do I get to plan the baby shower?"

After that, everything was a haze…for Remus anyway. He imagined Holly had plenty more eye rolls that night as she watched the three of them get dead drunk…

* * *

"HO, HO, HO!" A loud, booming voice jolted him out of his…admittedly strange dream. He forced an eyelid open and then sat bolt upright as Sirius Black, dressed in a red suit and white trim and a red hat with a white ball at the end strode confidently into his bedroom.

"Sirius?" Holly murmured groggily.

"Santa," Sirius corrected, grinning. "It's Christmas Eve Moony, get up!"

"It's the morning of the day _before _Christmas, it is NOT Christmas Eve, not yet," Holly corrected. "Why are you getting us up so early?"

"We've got lots to do to be ready for the party tonight! So, get up!"

"Who's that?" Remus asked hazily, referring to the considerably shorter being at Sirius's side.

"Santa's little helper!" Sirius chirped, pulling the "little helper" forward. Remus burst into laughter at the sight of sixteen-year-old Ebony Black dressed in an elf's costume.

"Shut up," The girl snapped, her cheeks flaming. "If you don't get out of bed so I can get out of this get up I'll shove this candy cane down your throat."

"Don't tempt her," Sirius said sagely. "Got a temper from her mother."

"That's rich," Remus rolled his eyes.

"Angie DOES have a temper," Holly sniffed. "A horrible temper at that."

"Please. Get. Up." Ebony "requested" through gritted teeth. Under the threat of a teenaged elf armed with glittery cheeks and a candy cane, Remus did as she asked.

"Good work," Sirius said, patting his daughter on the head. "We'll reconvene at o-eight hundred hours in the kitchen for your decorating assignments!" And, with a dramatic swish of his ridiculous red and white robes he and Ebony left the room.

* * *

END CHAPTER ONE

* * *

A/N: For those of you who are still scratching your heads about James Potter in the last scene of _Awakening_ that will be addressed in the next chapter. You will meet in detail all the children and hopefully understand better the character relationships as they have developed. The plot will also begin and should be well under way and clear by the end of chapter two. Hope to see you there.

--Stardust


	2. The Restoration

_Zirconia_

Chapter Two: The Restoration

By: Stardust

* * *

A/N: Summary of last chapter: First chapter was basically a series of flashbacks. Here are the important things learned from those flashbacks—Ginny and Draco are married and have four children, Cora, twins, and a son. Ron and Kirsten are also married. Harry and Hermione are forced into a relationship when they are still young because Hermione gets pregnant. After three children, they grow apart and get a divorce. Angie and Bill Weasley start a wildly successful band and record company called _Spellbound_. Remus and Holly also have a child. The day the story actually starts is Christmas Eve, fourteen years after the end of Awakening. Because it is the holidays the extended family, which includes all of the characters, is staying at Angie and Sirius's gargantuan mansion. Sirius and Angie always host a Christmas Eve party and they are all about to get ready for the party. Harry is the only one who is not already at the house. He is at his home with his new girlfriend Skyla.

Important background note before this chapter begins: Just a reminder—Remus Lupin is descended from the former Minister of Magic, Artemis Lupin. He was in _The Last Laugh_. Lily and James discovered the plot to assassinate the minister but were killed before they could reveal it. In the years between _The Last Laugh_ and _Awakening_ Artemis Lupin was killed and his fortune had been passed between relatives and in dispute ever since. Near the end of _Awakening_ the courts finally awarded the inheritance to Remus Lupin, Artemis Lupin's grandson. The important thing to remember is that Artemis Lupin had actually disowned Remus's mother because she married a muggle and Remus was a werewolf—another point against him. The extended family is still contesting the will and trying to get a hold of the money. They have no real claim to it, however, since Remus is the only blood relative left. The others are only related through marriage since they are step-children, etc. This will be better explained during the course of the story and should be obviously important to the reader very soon.

* * *

Late that afternoon Sirius burst into his office and found Hedwig waiting for him. The owl hooted indignantly at the brash manner which Sirius had entered the room. Scowling, Sirius took the letter from her.

"Harry will be here tonight so you might as well go and make yourself comfortable with the other owls," Sirius explained, as politely as he could bring himself to explain. He could have sworn Hedwig bowed at him before taking her leave.

Scowling darkly after the owl Sirius tore open the letter and his eyes quickly scanned the scrawling note.

Angie entered his study in the same impatient manner with which Sirius had entered. "Did you find it?" she demanded breathlessly. She had just been jogging.

Sirius, his lips set in a hard line, handed her the letter wordlessly. Had he been in a proper state of mind he would have appreciated Angie's flushed cheeks and heaving chest. As it was, he stared blankly, waiting for her to read. Frowning, she took it and scanned it herself. "Harry is bringing his girlfriend to Christmas? Who is his girlfriend?"

"Damned if I know," Sirius replied, rummaging around his desk. "I don't pay attention to the tabloids."

"Do you think we should warn Hermione?"

"Most definitely," Sirius said immediately. "She might have some clue as to who we will be entertaining…"

"Nice of him to tell us now, last minute…" Angie muttered, setting down the letter.

"Ah, here it is," Sirius said scanning a piece of parchment. "If we add Harry's girlfriend that makes 311 guests plus all of our family," Sirius said, pointing at tally marks and figures.

"So, about 350-375?" Angie asked. "That's a bit smaller than past years. We should do just fine."

"Yes, last year we had too many…" Sirius agreed. "Where is Bill? Did he finish frosting the windows and the glasses?"

"Yes, dear, I'm sure he did. Everyone is now getting ready for tonight and we should too."

"I just want to have a quick look—"

"No Sirius!" Angie said, firmly grabbing his lapels and pulling him, protesting loudly, after her.

She wasn't able to keep him long. He cleaned up and shaved with a speed she wouldn't have believed possible, especially with a razor so close to his jugular. Nevertheless, he was gone in no time at all, only half-dressed, of course.

Sighing, she inspected her new dress in the mirror. She'd have to go after him in a minute or he'd never give anyone any peace.

* * *

"I thought I said to put another Christmas tree in here!" Sirius bellowed at the top of his lungs. Even though he was shouting his voice was rather lost in the vastness of the hall in which he was standing. In just about an hour guests would start arriving and this was the main place to be. A massive glittering staircase descended into the room which looked like a winter wonderland. The room was well-lit with floating candles, fairies, and Christmas lights that covered every surface.

Angie came running into the room shortly after she heard Sirius. "Where would we put another tree?" Angie asked, looking around. There was a tree in every window, six on the stairs, plus two at the base and the top and a gigantic one in the center of the room.

"Right here!" Sirius shouted agitatedly. "I want one right here by the door behind the ice sculpture. That way the Christmas lights will illuminate it from behind. Where are those bloody houselves!?" he demanded, fumbling with a bowtie.

"Language, Sirius. It's Christmas Eve. And they are having their dinner and resting."

"RESTING!?" Sirius exploded and she thought he was going to choke himself with the bowtie. She whipped out her wand and pointed it at his throat. He took an involuntary step backward and eyed the wand warily.

"You've kept them up all day decorating and tonight they will be busy refilling drinks and hors d'oeuvres. Move your hands so I can fix that for you."

"What? Oh…" Sirius did as she asked and Angie used her wand to direct his bowtie into a neat knot. "I'll take a tree from the west wing library…"

"No, Sirius," Angie said, gently but firmly. "All the decorations are perfect—we've all worked long and hard."

"I've got to take a look at the outside. I haven't checked it all day."

"All right…" Angie said, sighing reluctantly. She trotted after him. "Have you spoken with Hermione yet?" she asked.

"I sent for her a few minutes ago."

"How is she supposed to find you if you keep moving?" Angie demanded. Sirius ignored her and burst out the front door. Angie rolled her eyes and headed off toward Hermione's guest suite.

* * *

They met on the stairs. Outside they could hear Sirius cursing distantly. "Don't worry about him, you know how he is about his parties," Angie said reassuringly.

"He sent for me—"

"I know," Angie cut in. "We just thought that you should know before you're shocked at the party tonight. Harry owled earlier and said he's bringing along his girlfriend."

"His girlfriend?" Hermione echoed. "O…OK," she replied, not really knowing how to appropriately respond.

"Not just tonight, she'll be staying with us and joining in the festivities tomorrow." Angie studied Hermione intently trying to pick up some clue as to how she was reacting.

"Oh, I see," Hermione replied her countenance carefully controlled. "I'll break it to the children. I'm sure he didn't consult them first," She added bitterly. Angie gave her a sympathetic look.

"You don't have any idea who she is, do you?" Angie asked hopefully. Hermione frowned and looked thoughtful.

"I think her name was Skyla…I don't really remember," she admitted and turned quickly and ran up the stairs.

Angie watched her go apprehensively. It had been over four years since the divorce had been final and this certainly wasn't the first girlfriend Harry had had since then. This was the first one he'd had the gall to bring home for Christmas though…

"What are you doing halfway up the staircase?" Sirius shouted. Angie whirled around to see him standing in the door way. His hair and shoulders were covered with a light dusting of snow and his nose was red.

"I've been talking with Hermione," Angie explained, descending the staircase. Sirius glanced upward where she had disappeared.

"How is she?" Sirius inquired. His features softened and his momentary concern won over his state of agitation about the party. "Hopefully better than the state of our shrubbery." It was only momentary. Angie rolled her eyes and tucked a lock of Sirius's black hair back into place.

"I think she'll be fine. We can't fuss over her—that will only make her angry. You know how it was during the divorce…"

"Right," Sirius agreed.

"She said she was going to warn the children."

"Oh? Oh yes," Sirius replied. "I hadn't thought of that. They may be rather surprised as well."

"Rather surprised is a bit of an understatement," Angie replied. "Kara will be disappointed that she won't get to be announced with her father this evening. Surely he would have told his children about this girl?"

Sirius gave his wife a look. "I doubt it; remember who we're talking about here."

"Well, it isn't our business is it?" Angie asked, reminding Sirius again not to fuss over Hermione.

"Hmph," Sirius grunted. She knew what he was thinking. He was thinking about the divorce. Hermione had spent most of her time at their house. She hadn't adjusted well and she'd needed their support. They were, of course, more than happy to provide it. She had made it their business then.

"Where are you going?" Angie demanded as he started to stride off.

"To the kitchens for a staff meeting," Sirius replied.

Angie went off to find Ebony.

* * *

"Harry!" Skyla called, exasperatedly. "Harry! It's eight o'clock! The party is starting."

"It's eight o'clock?" Harry asked appearing from behind her and startling her.

"Yes," She replied.

"Well, I just got the last thing…I hope…" he added. He pulled out a little black box. Skyla's instincts immediately kicked in. There was nothing that could quicken a girl's pulse like sleek black velvet boxes. "For my daughter," Harry explained. He didn't notice Skyla's face fall which happened despite her best efforts at control.

"Oh, she'll love it," Skyla assured him hurriedly. "Let's hurry and get home. We've got to get changed for the party."

"Wait a minute. I've got to have all these presents wrapped."

"Harry!" Skyla shouted, going red in the face. She was quickly losing her patience.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Ugh," was her only response.

* * *

Hermione heard a soft knock on her bedroom door and knew they were wondering where she was. It was shortly after eight o'clock now and guests had no doubt started to arrive.

She answered it and was pleased to find Kirsten—and only Kirsten. Kirsten looked stunning as ever. Fourteen years had hardly aged her outwardly. Hermione wished she could say the same.

"You look lovely Hermione," Kirsten said as politeness demanded.

"Don't lie," Hermione replied, her face contorting.

"No really, you look fine. I think you could spice things up a bit since it's the evening but—"

"Help me do it then," Hermione replied immediately.

"Oh, it's nothing really. Just a little extra on the eyes and a shade darker on the lips—there looking better already." Hermione watched in the mirror. Kirsten's tricks were always subtle but dramatic. She was happy for the change. She needed all the self-esteem she could get tonight.

"Your son looks very sharp tonight," Kirsten said approvingly working on her hair now.

"Oh yes," Hermione replied. "James always looks very handsome all dressed up. He wears it well."

"Hmmm, yes," Kirsten agreed. "I was, however, talking about Apollo."

"Oh?" Hermione asked. "Well that's good to hear. He usually just throws any old thing on." Kirsten giggled. "Kara is usually the worst though. She's such a tomboy."

"There, I think that's done it. You're sure to impress—anyone," Kirsten said with a wink.

"Kirsten, am I being ridiculous?" Hermione asked catching her off guard. Her smile faded and her lips parted slightly. "It's not like I want to catch his eye but I'd hate to think he would be pleased with himself if he saw me looking scruffy or something."

"Hermione, you definitely don't look scruffy and you're not being ridiculous. I understand completely." Hermione gave her a hug.

"Thanks Kirsten."

"Ready to go down?" Kirsten asked.

"Sure," Hermione said, taking her arm.

* * *

Sirius and Angie were near the giant Christmas tree receiving their guests as they were announced and descended the staircase. Sirius and Angie were known for their lavish parties. Annually they threw one on Christmas Eve and an even larger one on New Year's Eve. Because they were both powerful and famous and had many connections these parties were THE places to be and be seen. The minister of magic was a frequent guest as well as at least half of the ministry officials and Hogwarts staff. (Although, many members of the staff were in some way related to Sirius.)

Sirius watched proudly as his daughter, Kirsten, and son-in-law, Ron Weasley, Head of the Department of Mysteries, descended the staircase. Kirsten was looking as resplendent as she ever had and Ron's face was wreathed in smiles.

Sirius and Angie's grandchildren were not far behind. Sami, now eleven, had tamed her shoulder length red hair and pulled it back into an attractive pony-tail. Her brother Drew, thirteen, was trying his best to look serious, as he led his sister down the stairs. Drew was over a head taller than this sister and they made a cute couple. Angie and Sirius greeted all four of them with hugs and kisses.

Holly and Remus Lupin, looking very elegant and proper, entered the hall and joined the party. Their son of eleven, Adam, followed with detached interest, scanning the crowd for friends.

Angie and Sirius had a wide array of connections that ranged from the very powerful to the very famous to the very talented. Through Harry they had been introduced to a number of talented quidditch stars over the years—most of which were in attendance. Angie was close friends with a number of talented singers and their bands and many of them graced their party with an appearance. Sirius, through his own work and through Ron's, felt comfortable inviting many politicians and ministry officials.

Angie enthusiastically greeted the members of the Weird Sisters and assured them that her band-mates, Bill and Fred Weasley, would soon be arriving.

Draco and Ginny and their four were now descending the stairs. Draco looked sharp in his dark robes with his hair slicked neatly back. His face was set in a determined look of nothingness as his eyes scanned the growing crowd below. Ginny was smiling pleasantly a few wisps of her red hair escaping her bun already.

Cora, thirteen, entered holding firmly on to her youngest sibling, Maximus (Max), whose unruly red curls were typically falling in his eyes. He had a pained look on his face. Behind them were the twins, Aurora and Arista, aged eleven. Their luxurious blonde waves framed their shining faces as they followed in their parents' wake.

The rest of the Weasleys were next. Molly and Arthur led the way beaming. Bill and Sierra entered next, laughing, as was per usual. Charlie entered with his wife Nicolette Noire Weasley. Nikki looked very charming in her somewhat conservative (for her) dress robes. Percy and Penelope came next with their typical look of arrogance as they gazed down their noses at everyone. Their eight year old son, Ethan, followed in much the same fashion. Fred entered with the latest of his girlfriends closely followed by George and his clan.

George and Katie Bell Weasley were all smiles as their eight children descended like a tidal wave on Angie and Sirius. Sirius knew if he was really concentrating he could identify all the red-haired freckled faces individually but he wasn't in the proper frame of mind for that just then—especially since they wouldn't all cooperate and stand in one place.

Hermione entered next, allowing her oldest son, James, who was thirteen, to lead her. He looked like a proper gentleman, his mother on his arm. James, though named for his grandfather, bore almost no resemblance to that man. He had thick brown hair which he kept cut short and Harry's bright green eyes. Behind them Kara, eleven, led by her brother Apollo, who had just celebrated his tenth birthday, reminded Sirius of a very young Hermione and Harry. Apollo had black hair and green eyes like Harry and Kara looked more and more like her mother as she got older.

So far, no one had seen Harry.

Hermione was standing chatting with Sirius as he enjoyed the brief break in entering guests when the much awaited Minister of Magic arrived. David Owens had just been elected Minister of Magic this year becoming the youngest Minister of Magic ever. Sirius, who usually knew the ministers and people of importance very well, had only had limited contact with David Owens. This was partially because David Owens was just thirty-one years old.

He looked very handsome in perfectly tailored dress robes. His dark hair and eyes caught the light of the candles above and glimmered enchantingly as he descended the stairs with a grace only he could have managed—especially since he was unaccompanied. His finely cut features parted in a smile as he took Sirius's hand and shook it firmly.

They both layered each other with compliments for as long as Sirius could stand it. Then, Angie and David had a similar exchange. His manners were impeccable. Sirius laughed appreciatively at a joke.

"Minister--" Sirius began but was immediately interrupted.

"David, please, I insist," He insisted with a charming smile.

"David," Sirius said, with a pleased smile on his face. "I'm pleased to present Hermione Granger Potter, my…er…daughter," Sirius finished, glancing sidelong at Hermione. She gave Sirius's arm an affectionate squeeze and offered David her hand.

His smile was disarming and she found herself smiling warmly in return. "Enchanted," He murmured. Her skin tingled as his lips just brushed the top of her hand.

"I can't imagine where my real daughters, Kirsten Weasley, whom I believe you have met, and Ebony Black have run off to…" Sirius continued and David politely turned his attention back to Sirius.

"I have had the pleasure of meeting your daughter Kirsten. She is an excellent cook," David explained. "Ron was gracious enough to have me over for dinner a few months ago. They are a delightful couple and Ron is a valuable asset to my advisory council. I am very grateful to have his advice and his leadership in the Department of Mysteries."

Sirius and Angie beamed appropriately. "I shan't take any more of your time. Thank you again for the kind invitation." He bowed to them both. "Hermione," He said, nodding and smiling at her.

Once David was swallowed by the crowd she turned back to Angie and Sirius. She would have liked to say something about the Minister but they were again engaged in their duties as hosts receiving the stream of guests descending from the staircase.

Carefully, she melted away too.

* * *

Sirius checked his pocket watch and noted it was after ten. "I wonder if Harry is coming after all…" He said, frowning. This wasn't the sort of party Harry would miss. A chance to be seen and revel in his following was the sort of thing he did best these days.

Hermione too was worried about her ex-husband's failure to turn up. She knew it was possible that he had been called to IAA duty—Christmas Eve or not he'd answer the call. He was under contractual agreement but she doubted it would have made a difference otherwise.

Their thoughts were silenced when Harry did arrive, looking as carefree as ever. Hermione's head snapped up reflexively as he was announced. Skyla was as carefully put together as a supermodel—and prettier. She reminded Hermione of Kirsten—a gorgeous blonde beauty. Skyla did not have Kirsten's charm however. She seemed seductive and confident and built for Harry's arm.

Hermione shook her head, reminding herself that she was just biased. She hated the little jealous bug that had seized her. After all, it wasn't as if she wanted to go back to Harry.

With Sirius and Angie's usual grace they greeted Harry and Skyla as warmly as they would have greeted Kirsten.

Hermione watched as Kara made her way to her father and rather impatiently shoved Skyla out of the way. Hermione was satisfied to note the brief look of anger that flashed in Skyla's eyes as she was suddenly replaced. _That's my girl_, Hermione thought remorselessly.

Suddenly her line of vision was blocked and she was surprised to look up and find David Owens, Minister of Magic, coming her way. "Hermione!" He greeted her warmly. "I feel like we are old friends in this sea of strangers."

She returned that warm smile with one of her most charming. "Not so many strangers," Hermione said, thinking darkly of the recent appearance of her ex-husband.

"No?" David asked. "Well, I admit I haven't made it to many social gatherings recently. I've been busy getting elected and getting settled in and it's been all business for me. Maybe you could introduce me to a few of your friends? You seem as well-connected as Sirius."

Hermione smiled. "Not quite, but I do know most of the people here. I'd be delighted to show you around. I don't often get the chance to be such a social butterfly." David grinned and offered her an arm. She took it enthusiastically—for a Minister of Magic, he was unexpectedly good-looking and like a lost puppy in the middle of a gang of playful kids.

* * *

"Daddy!" Kara cooed adoringly. "Did you bring me wonderful presents?" She grinned toothily at him and he laughed and patted her head. Her hair was falling out of its once neat bun and she had spilled something on her dress robes, but that was all typical Kara fashion.

"Of course. But you'll have to wait until tomorrow, K. Look; I have someone I want you to meet—"

"--Dad, did James tell you about our last match?" Kara interrupted, impatiently pulling up the sleeve of her robe that kept falling down. "It was great I—"

"You must be Kara!" Skyla said neatly interrupting. She smiled turning ice blue eyes on the young girl. Kara gave her an appraising look and then her face broke into a smile.

"Yes, I am," She replied, curtsying theatrically.

"Kara, this is Skyla," Harry explained succinctly.

"Pleased to meet you," Kara replied in a sugary-sweet voice. Harry seemed pleased.

"Where are your brothers?" He asked her. Kara shrugged disinterestedly, upsetting her sleeve off her shoulder again.

"Who cares? Like I was saying about our last match…" Harry rolled his eyes over her head. Her offered Skyla his arm, which she accepted. He took his daughter by the hand and pretended to listen as they walked away in search of James and Apollo.

Sirius turned to Angie who, up until that point had been smiling. The look on Sirius's face wiped the smile right off hers. "What is it?" She cried. "Are the ice sculptures melting? Has one of the butlers discarded his Santa hat? Speak, Sirius!"

"Do you have any idea who that is!?" He demanded in a hiss of a voice.

"Skyla Walsh?" Angie repeated innocently.

"That little _witch_ is a daughter of the late Henry Walsh!" This statement, uttered angrily and passionately, did not have the effect on Angie that Sirius had been expecting. She desperately racked her brain for some recognition of the name.

"Henry Walsh, married to the late Diana Walsh, formerly Diana Lupin, and Remus's _aunt!_"

"Oh…OH!" Angie said, a hand flying to her mouth at the implication.

"The tactless, inconsiderate—"

"That's your godson you're talking about," Angie reminded Sirius quickly and he cut himself off abruptly. His face was purple with anger.

"_She's_ a greedy, remorseless, little—"

"—Sirius!" Angie cried desperately. "Control yourself. You don't know her side of the story."

"Her side?" Sirius asked, astonished. "That whole aristocratic prejudice complex runs rampant in that family. To them Remus is lower than a house elf simply because he's a werewolf and a half blood. Never mind that he is the only living relative with Artemis Lupin's blood in his veins. Skyla Walsh, Diana's step-daughter, never even met the man but that doesn't stop her from hiring every lawyer in England to get a hold of his money."

"Sirius!" Angie implored. "_I_ am well aware of the situation. Please, keep your voice down."

* * *

Across the room Holly was having a similar dispute with her husband. Remus had nearly knocked over a tray of champagne glasses when Miss Skyla Walsh had been announced. He'd seen that name several times in bold ink on the legal statements he constantly received from her lawyer.

"Where's Sirius?" Remus growled, after Holly had interrupted his swearing several times. He looked wildly around the masses of elegantly attired people in search of the host.

"This way," Holly said, dragging him toward the enormous Christmas tree. Holly exchanged an eye roll with her sister in a rare moment of understanding when the couples finally found each other.

"How the hell did that _woman_ get invited?" Remus demanded immediately. Sirius reddened with embarrassment and anger and hastened to explain that she was Harry's guest.

They were both in such a fit trying to understand what Harry could possibly have been thinking that they couldn't even speak in complete sentences. Angie grabbed two drinks and shoved them in their directions. Apparently, it was going to be a long night.

"Come on Holly, I've got to mingle with my guests," Angie said striding off into a clump of people. Holly considered the men for a moment before ducking after Angie.

* * *

Meanwhile Skyla, oblivious to all the talk about her, clung to Harry's arm. Between the two of them they knew almost everyone of consequence and reveled in the lime light of parties for the rich and famous. Her blue eyes sparkled and her laugh was musical as Harry told a story about one of his teammates.

Kara had eventually tired of being introduced to everyone Harry had ever met before and slipped off to find her brothers who were no doubt brewing up trouble with some of the other kids. Every year Ebony unveiled a new plot to try and snag some of the champagne but Sirius always seemed to be one step ahead of her, placing charms on the glasses, etc.

This year, the plan seemed to involve using Apollo as some sort of a decoy. Ebony was always the one to move in at the last second and actually attempt the stealing. Cora had always explained that this was because Ebony didn't trust anyone else to do the job and also because she would never want to share the glory of actually once being successful.

"Give it up Ebony," James said in a detached sort of tone. He didn't care really, one way or the other, but he was tiring of the sort of game they had been playing all night. So far Apollo hadn't fooled any of the butlers and Ebony was now instructing them on how they could all steal individual glasses from guests at the party.

"Gross!" Sami said. "Who wants to drink after one of these old people?"

"That's not what I meant at all," Ebony replied quickly in an exasperated tone. She constantly talked to the rest of them as if she were dealing with a bunch of dim-wits. "When someone takes a new glass there are ways of either stealing it or persuading them-without them realizing what they are doing-to give it to you."

"The better plan is to wait another hour, maybe two, scope out someone who is getting really drunk, and then you could probably convince them to actually get you drinks," Cora offered.

"Hey, you know, that isn't half bad?" Ebony said, her eyes lighting up.

"Oh no," Cora said, putting her head in her hand and shaking them both from side to side.

* * *

"You know Minister, I really like what you've done helping us rewrite those muggle artifact laws," Arthur Weasley continued his discussion animatedly. David nodded and smiled wider and wider as Mr. Weasley continued to grow more and more excited. David glanced at Hermione once who was shaking with suppressed laughter as Arthur rambled on and on about the specifics of the changes. David couldn't have gotten a word in even if he had known what Arthur was gabbing on about. Eventually Mrs. Weasley swooped in and saved them.

"Arthur dear," Mrs. Weasley said, her grin a little tight as she reached for the partially-full glass in his hand. "I think you've talked to the Minister enough tonight. No doubt he has other people with whom he'd like to chat."

"Oh…er…of course," Arthur said, reddening. Still he looked hopefully at David who tried to seem polite but not terribly encouraging. He really had had enough talk about televisions and flashlights. "I didn't mean to—"

"Not at all," David said smoothly and reassuringly. His wide grin brightened Arthur's face. "I'm glad to have met you Arthur and…uh…?"

"Molly," Mrs. Weasley said blushing prettily as David took her hand.

"Shall we?" He asked, turning to Hermione and offering her his arm again. Mrs. Weasley gave Hermione a certain look to which Hermione averted her eyes. David winked theatrically at the Weasleys and they continued off around the room.

"You certainly do know a lot of people," David remarked, as Hermione acknowledged nods and hellos from all directions.

"Well," Hermione said smiling. "It helps that I'm on your arm. Half of them wouldn't bother with a greeting if I was by myself."

"You're too modest," David assured her.

"And you are much too kind," Hermione replied. "All night you've let people make policy proposals and tell you how to do your job and you smiled at all of them loosening their tongues with your unending wit and charm."

"Oh dear," David said sarcastically. "How terrible of me."

Hermione laughed. "I wasn't criticizing," She explained.

"And I was only teasing," David explained looking down into her eyes. "I haven't heard your proposal yet."

"My…what?" Hermione stuttered momentarily flustered by the statement and his concentrating look. She blushed when she couldn't think of anything to say and he smiled handsomely. "Whatever will I do without my guide the next time I go to a party?" He murmured as someone else "casually" walked by and said hello to Hermione, hoping to gain an invitation to chat.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Oh I'm sure you'll be shunned by everyone."

"Well that settles it then," David said, reaffirming his grip on her and initiating movement once more.

"Settles what?" Hermione asked, her forehead creasing in confusion.

"_My _proposal: you're coming with me New Year's Eve to a party hosted by Jack Taylor, the retired Head of the Department of Mysteries."

"Oh, but—"

"—Nothing," David interrupted. "Sirius isn't throwing his usual New Year's Eve bash so you won't be here again and I'm sure that one of your friends or relatives would be delighted to take charge of your children for the night and furthermore I would like nothing more than to have you as my guest."

Hermione hesitated. There really wasn't any reason not to go and she had been having a wonderful time so far tonight. Still, something inside held her back. She hadn't been on a date since her divorce—not that David had said this was a date, her mind quickly scolded her. She glanced around the room and caught a glimpse of Harry and Skyla in conversation with what she thought was the current Director of the IAA. Harry had just said something and turned to Skyla placing an arm round her waist. A surge of feeling swept through her blood and she turned back to David's expectant gaze.

"OK," She said, her face splitting into a smile. He returned her smile and she felt happy feelings bubble up inside her. She had almost forgotten how it felt when someone looked at her that way.

"OK."

* * *

"Come on, Max," Ebony begged. "Just trip the next one that comes by—"

"And what?" Max interrupted. "You'll grab a glass _as_ _it's falling?_ Come on, Ebony…"

"Just do it Max," She commanded. "I can't do it because I would get in REAL trouble. But you can get away with it. Better yet, where's Kara? Daddy's little girl?"

"Forget it Ebony," Kara replied pushing hair out of her face. "I'm not causing bodily harm to anyone just so you can get drunk." Ebony rolled her eyes.

"I'd share with you," She explained.

"Oh, how _thoughtful_ of you," Kara replied.

"You guys are so _boring_," Ebony complained. "This party blows."

"That's because we haven't done anything fun—" Drew started to say.

"—like light the Christmas tree on fire?" Aurora interrupted, a malevolent glint in her eye.

"Yeah!" Ebony said enthusiastically. "Only, I know Dad had the Christmas trees fireproofed this year, just to be sure. I mean, it was an accident last time when you set it on fire, but he was suspicious because we talked about it so much the next morning… Of course he blamed me."

"How could he blame you?" Aurora asked incredulously. "I was clearly the one who tripped with the lighted candle. At least half a dozen people saw it and Arista even admitted to tripping me on purpose."

"I know, but Dad still seemed to think that the whole thing was staged and had been my idea. I keep trying to tell him if he would just let me try some champagne I might try harder to behave but does he listen?"

"Wait, wait, wait," Cora interrupted. "You _try at all _to behave?"

"Well, you know, in theory," Ebony responded, her green eyes gleaming wickedly.

"Guys; two minutes until Christmas! It's almost midnight!" Adam shouted gleefully. Indeed he was right. The lights were starting to dim and the candles were descending from the ceiling to everyone's outstretched hands.

This had been one of their traditions for as long as they could remember. Only recently had the kids been trusted with the candles—this, last year, turned out to be a mistake. At the striking of midnight when everyone cheered and told their friends "Happy Christmas!" Aurora and Arista had settled their evening-long feud by getting physical. The large Christmas tree in the center of the room was relatively unfazed by Aurora crashing into it—except for a few decorations that went bouncing across the floor. However, during the extrication process her candle did succeed in lighting a branch on fire which quickly spread.

Of course, this wasn't the sort of thing that went unnoticed for a long period of time and several wizards armed with jets of water from their wands were effective in dousing the flames before they got too out of hand but not before some panicked guest threw a glass of champagne on the flames causing a small explosion. Needless to say Sirius was livid and only the spirit of Christmas and Angie saved all the children from eminent death. This year all of them were quite a distance away from the Christmas trees—this owing mostly to the fact that they received "the glare" from Sirius across the room if one of them happened too close.

He seemed to have a sixth sense about such things and Ebony spent a lot of her time cautiously approaching Christmas trees, watching her father's back. About the sixth time he turned around she decided she might be pushing her luck a little too far. His brown eyes had gone dark and hollow, a sure sign of wrath. Angie had put a restraining hand on his arm and gave her daughter the Look.

"HAPPY CHRISTMAS!!" Hundreds of voices shouted filling the room with Christmas cheer as a light, enchanted snow began to fall from the ceiling.

"Happy Christmas Drew," Kirsten said, appearing at his side and giving him a squeeze. Ron materialized as well, his daughter with him.

All the children seemed to sigh in unison. This was the time of night when they were all dismissed and sent to bed. Sirius always arranged for their rooms to be spread across the mansion and the various house-elves and servants prevented them from prowling after being put to bed. This, of course, was always frustrating because the party continued long after midnight and now was when the dancing began.

"What's with all the long faces?" Ron asked, surveying the group. "The sooner you go to bed the sooner you can get up and open presents…"

Cora rolled her eyes. "It's the same amount of time no matter what, Uncle Ron," She replied in bored tones. A brief smile flashed across Ron's face.

"Some day, you'll all be allowed to stay," Angie said, approaching her daughter.

Ebony grunted wordlessly and the children grudgingly said goodnight. "It's not fair," Angie listened to Ebony complain to Cora, the next oldest child. "We're practically adults."

* * *

From across the room Hermione watched her three children walk upstairs. James was laughing and ruffling Apollo's hair despite his best attempts to prevent it. Hermione smiled faintly and David followed her gaze to the mass of children climbing the staircase.

"Which ones are your three?" He asked, leaning closer to her in order to share her exact line of vision.

"Three? How did you…oh…right…" She finished, realizing that he would, of course, be familiar with the number of children Harry Potter had. "Um…you see those two there, by the railing toward the back, those two boys are James and Apollo. I can't see Kara; one would assume she's in the middle somewhere."

"Are they all in school?" David asked, straightening back up to his full height.

"Apollo doesn't start until next year," Hermione replied. David nodded. "Let's not talk about them, OK?"

"Whatever you say," David replied. "What do you want to talk about?"

"We've been talking all night," Hermione said. "Let's change things up and dance."

"I was afraid to ask…" David admitted, immediately taking her by the hand and commencing the dancing.

"Happy Christmas, Minister," Hermione said.

"Happy Christmas," He replied, awarding her with one of his attractive smiles.

* * *

"Good morning, my love, happy Christmas. I think," Sirius mumbled into Angie's ear the next morning. She had just entered the bathroom where Sirius had just finished shaving.

"Morning babe," She replied sleepily, pushing a blonde strand of hair out of her face. When they had finally kicked out said goodnight to the last of their guests, the Minister of Magic one of the last of them, they hadn't had much night left. The result being very little sleep. Nonetheless, they couldn't keep the kids waiting very long and admittedly they were all excited about Christmas. Sirius, despite his statement, not the least of them in the excitement department.

"Do you think anyone will want breakfast?" Angie asked, turning on the faucet.

"_I_ want breakfast and I'm the one who matters in this house—and you and Ebony of course," he amended quickly. Angie was too tired to care. "I also want a very black cup of coffee and half a bottle of pain-killers."

"Ditto," Angie muttered, holding her forehead in her hand. After midnight she had lost track of what or how much she was drinking. As a rule, she no longer drank anything but wine except on special occasions and she'd definitely had her fill last night. She'd hated to think of what she might have said or done to the Minister of Magic or anyone else important.

Sirius suddenly ran back into the bathroom a panicked look on his face. "That woman is still here isn't she?"

"Yes Sirius, I would imagine Skyla is still here," Angie replied, annoyed. The pounding in her head seemed to increase in urgency as he continued.

"I'll be damned if Remus and I have to partake of food with _her_."

"Sirius," Angie said exasperatedly. "What do you want me to do about it? If it bothers you so much either confront her or talk to Harry about it."

"I could do that," Sirius admitted. "However, I don't want to cause a disagreement—not today."

"Of course you don't, not on Christmas, but Sirius, I'm frankly tired of hearing about it and I can't stand it much longer so if you don't do something I will."

"I love you," Sirius said, grinning. Angie opened her mouth to continue, hesitated, and then said: "I know." Sirius grinned wider.

"I'll see you in a few minutes."

* * *

Sirius sauntered into his second largest living room that the family always used on Christmas morning (the first largest living room would be used later to play with Christmas presents) and was met with a cheer and a smattering of applause. The children, almost all of whom were awake and impatiently awaiting the rest of the family would continue this ritual until every last adult arrived.

Ron was already awake because he was used to not sleeping and being up early. He was, predictably, reading a newspaper, several other international newspapers already discarded at his chair's side. Kirsten was sleepily watching a few of the kids playing exploding snap.

Holly and Remus were also around, looking bleary-eyed but cheerful. The elder Weasleys were also present. The rest were still enjoying the company of their beds.

"Where's Ebony?" Sirius asked. Cora rolled her eyes.

"Sleeping, of course," she replied. "Nothing short of something illegal could wake her up before she's ready." Sirius did his best to not be pleased with that statement. Somehow though, he felt himself swelling with pride. Sometimes he found it difficult to be the parent. It was really no wonder she caused so much trouble…

Sirius sat down heavily beside Remus. "No sign of the uninvited relative?" He asked. Remus shook his head and sighed.

"Of all the beautiful blondes in the world Harry had to pick that one…" Remus said.

"More likely that she picked him," Sirius replied darkly.

"It's true," Remus replied sadly.

"I guess I'll have to talk to him," Sirius said, staring into the fire.

"Yeah," Remus agreed and Sirius felt a sinking in his chest. He wasn't really sure what he expected. Somehow he knew he was hoping Remus would do it for him, or forget about the whole thing. Both were unrealistic, but he had been hoping anyway.

More applause as George and Katie entered, each one carrying a twin—who were four now.

Sirius rose to his feet, surveyed the room and sleepy faces for a second and spoke. "Does anyone want breakfast?" Some of the kids expressed interest. Most of the adults were impassive.

"Breakfast would be great!" Ron said brightly, however, momentarily looking up from his newspaper. "I'm about out of coffee too."

"Coffee?" Holly asked, suddenly perking up. A few others seemed to do the same. Sirius nodded and led the way to the formal dining room. It was the only dining room large enough for all the family (after he put a couple extra leaves in).

Hermione entered soon, pulling a cup of steaming hot tea toward her. "Morning Hermione," Kirsten said, giving her a nudge and a smile.

Hermione glanced at her, continued to pour milk in her tea, and then replied in a wary voice. "Good morning Kirsten. Happy Christmas."

"Indeed," Kirsten replied, still unable to suppress the grin on her face.

"What is so amusing?" Hermione demanded after a full minute of this. She was dead tired with a hint of a hangover. She wasn't used to being in such a state and wasn't really pleased about it.

"What do you think of Minister Owens?" Kirsten asked, smiling, if possible, even wider.

"Oh," Hermione replied, glancing around the table to make sure everyone else was not paying attention. "Is that what you're on about?"

"Mmm-hmm," Kirsten replied, still grinning, her eyes sparkling madly.

"He's very nice isn't he?" Hermione asked in a would-be normal voice. She too was now having difficulty suppressing a grin, the throb in her head momentarily forgotten.

"How nice is he?" Kirsten inquired, biting her lip in an attempt to stop grinning. She leaned closer to Hermione, her gaze anxious and conspiratorial. Hermione took one look at her and rolled her eyes.

"Oh honestly," She said. "_Nothing_ happened. Except…"

"Except!?" Kirsten gasped, nearly upsetting a jug of milk. She hadn't actually expected an except.

"Well…" Hermione said, the grin returning. She once again checked to make sure no one was observing their conversation. "Except that he asked me to a New Year's Eve party."

Kirsten squeaked and put a hand over her mouth. Hermione reddened in the face as several people near them finally took notice. "Are you OK?" Ron asked his wife, laying a hand carefully on her back.

Wordlessly she nodded, took a deep breath, and then said. "Hiccups."

"Ah," Ron replied, going back to his newspaper. Kirsten and Hermione exchanged a glance and then giggled.

Just then Angie arrived, a surly looking Ebony in tow. Cora snickered at the sight of her, tufts of black hair sticking up, and earned an evil-eyed glare. Angie deposited her in the nearest seat and headed for Sirius.

"I've sent a message to Harry requesting his presence in your office in half an hour," Angie said softly to him. Sirius raised his eyebrows in surprise and then burst out laughing. She, of course, would have guessed that he hadn't actually confronted anyone yet.

"Fine," Sirius replied, still suppressing laughter.

Just then Draco and Ginny entered, yawning, followed shortly by Sierra. "Where's Bill?" Molly Weasley asked.

"Sleeping, naturally," Sierra replied, fixing herself some coffee. "Happy Christmas everyone." She was greeted with a positive shout of response as everyone replied in unison and was sorry she had addressed the room at large. There were way too many people.

"Dude!" Apollo shouted across the table at Drew Weasley. "The giant squid would _so_ beat a blast-ended skrewt in a fight."

"I didn't _say_ a blast-ended skrewt did I?" Drew asked, pointing his fork at Apollo. "I said an _army_ of blast-ended skrewts."

"Oh right, like that makes it better," Apollo rebuked. "Nothing can beat the giant squid."

"You've never even seen the giant squid," Drew replied annoyed.

"So what?"

Sirius finished his breakfast and sat back in his chair surveying the room with a pleased smile on his face. There were tons of them—technically, most were not blood related to him—but in essence they were all family. _All_ of the Weasleys, and even Draco Malfoy—who nearly counted as a Weasley these days.

He was happier than he ever thought possible. He literally had everything he could have ever wanted. Now if only he could manage to finally extricate himself from the Department of Mysteries and somehow get Harry and Hermione back together life would be perfect. Temporarily leaving aside the sticky situation at the Ministry he turned his mind to Harry and Hermione. Being a firsthand witness to the divorce, he knew, however, that getting them back together might not be the best possible thing to hope for. Hermione, unquestionably, was still in love with Harry (not that she'd admit it) but Harry's position was still doubtful. He had changed drastically, in the last five years, especially. It was as if he was having a mid-life crisis a few years too early.

Sirius openly admitted, however, that he hadn't known Harry's side of the story as intimately as he might have. Thinking back he often felt like he hadn't reached out to Harry enough during the divorce and Harry certainly hadn't come around due to Hermione's constant presence. Sirius had tried; he'd met Harry in London a few nights but Harry never wanted to talk about it. The divorce hadn't been bitter—Harry conceded whatever Hermione wanted and quickly moved on, growing farther and farther apart from his children.

All of this was quite obvious to the outside observer and the family, being so close-knit, often discussed it in hushed tones. It was probably one of the reasons that Harry never came to Hogsmeade anymore, save Christmas and a day or two in the summer if he was picking up or dropping off kids. That was the only time he ever saw them. He'd usually take them to quidditch practices and to a few parties around London during the summer but nothing more.

Sirius was interrupted out of his thoughts when a bit of egg came flying in his direction. It sailed over his head and hit the wall behind him. Ebony had immediately hid herself under the table and everyone had fallen silent.

Sirius glared and found several guilty faces looking back. One guilty face was especially conspicuous by its absence. "I _told_ you—" Cora started to whisper but Sirius cut her off.

"—Silence!" He barked. "Ebony Black, crawl over here and pick that up." Everyone waited in silence while she completed her task. On her way back to her seat she stuck her tongue out at Cora and fell heavily into her chair, glaring equally at Cora and her father.

Cautiously, the conversation picked back up again when George's youngest, a three year old, started shouting for food and in the process overturning his glass of pumpkin juice. Sirius, watched his daughter warily, as she would not stop glaring in his direction. She _hated_ when he embarrassed her in front of everyone. And God help him that look she was giving him reminded him eerily of his older sister.

Suddenly Sami, who was sitting next to Ebony, pointed at her and started laughing hysterically. Several others joined in when they turned to have a look. She was now sitting back and giving them all curious looks but above her, her long black hair was slowly standing on end. Finally she looked up and realized what was happening.

"Oy!" She shouted, startled and tried to flatten it with her hand. It began flapping at her hand and pulling her head in all directions. Sirius was roaring with laughter until Angie saw his wand and poured her half empty glass of pumpkin juice in his lap.

Ebony's hair immediately went limp and she joined her mother in laughing out loud at Sirius. Muttering he stood up and brushed off his robes. "Excuse me," He said, his teeth clenched, a certain look given to his wife who returned the look with interest. "I'll be right back…"

* * *

Harry was not around when Sirius arrived in his office. No matter, he didn't like people in there alone—even his godson—and least of all his daughter. He didn't have to wait long however, before Harry, bags under his eyes, but completely put together, lazily dragged himself in.

"Is this to be a business meeting?" Harry inquired, noting all the parchment spread across Sirius's large desk.

"Not exactly," Sirius said, shoving some of it out of his way. "Happy Christmas Harry, why don't you take a seat?"

"Sure," Harry said agreeably, falling into a comfy leather armchair opposite Sirius and yawning.

"Did you sleep all right Harry?" Sirius asked. He was slightly nervous and wondered how exactly he was going to introduce the topic he needed to discuss. Harry narrowed his eyes at his godfather. Now that he thought about it, this whole set-up was rather odd.

"Just fine," He replied, warily.

"How's Miss Walsh? Did you send her down to breakfast?"

"Yes…"

"Ah good," Sirius said. "Once we join them then we'll have the full crew."

"Will we be joining them soon then?" Harry asked.

"Um…yes…" Sirius replied, letting an awkward silence descend.

"Sirius, is there something you need to ask me?" Harry questioned. Harry preferred to get to the point. Sirius was disturbingly uncomfortable when things were on his mind. Harry had been through this routine several times before and it was never good…except for the time Sirius was trying to give him the birds and the bees talk. That had turned out rather funny.

Sirius took a good long hard look at Harry and considered how best to answer. "There is something I need to ask you Harry but you mustn't take this the wrong way. You have to look at it from my point of view, you see?"

"OK Sirius, just say it," Harry said, sitting up a little straighter. He had a feeling this wasn't going to turn out funny.

"What the hell are you thinking bringing Skyla Walsh here for Christmas with your family and most importantly with Remus?" Sirius had tried not to explode but he had delivered the words with a certain force.

Harry blinked.

"What does Remus have to do with anything?" He asked after a beat.

"Skyla Walsh is part of the ongoing family dispute over Artemis Lupin's fortune," Sirius explained rubbing his temples. Was it really possible Harry was that thick? How removed from this family was he?

"With all possible respect," Harry began, his voice soft and deadly. "Are you accusing me—her—of something?"

"I'm trying to prevent an out and out conflict, Harry. I told you to look at the situation from my point of view—"

"Look at it from mine!" Harry interjected. "You're attacking her and you don't even _know_ her!"

"I don't know her but Remus certainly does and he's the one I'm concerned about, Harry. Sometimes old friends mean more than…than…new ones…" Harry noted at no point was he considered in that last statement.

"Do you think she would be as classless as to bring up legal disputes on Christmas…at a family gathering of which she is not a part? Maybe you should be lecturing Remus to keep his cool instead of—" Harry stopped abruptly as Sirius banged his fist on the desk. He always had a short temper.

Harry took a short breath and settled back into his chair. "Fine. Your point…or whatever…is duly noted. I'm not sure exactly what you expect me to do at this point. I can't very well send her home but you don't have to worry about it anymore, OK? Do you feel better? The pressure is off you. In case some argument breaks out you can rest assured that you gave me hell in your _office_ on Christmas morning; at least you did your best." He couldn't help being bitter and sarcastic.

"I didn't want this Harry."

"I didn't either!" They contemplated one another in heated silence for a few moments.

"I'm not going to apologize, you understand?"

"I didn't ask you to."

"Let's not be mad on Christmas," Sirius suggested.

"_I'm_ not apologizing."

"I didn't ask you to."

* * *

"Skyla!" Angie cried as the woman entered the dining room. Remus went pale and took a long drag on his tea. Perhaps Angie was biased but she thought Skyla rather looked down her nose at the sprawling group of sleepy and slightly unkempt people in front of her. "Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas," Skyla replied with a frosty smile, though she never looked at Angie. Her eyes were sweeping the table. Then she took a seat though conversation had noticeably died down.

Kirsten gave Hermione a wary glance before smiling pleasantly at Skyla. They had met the night before. "Good morning, how did you sleep?"

"Fine, thank you," Skyla said.

"Which suite are you in?" Kirsten asked. "The one next to the library?" Skyla shook her head. "Oh! The Victorian room—I love that one!"

"It is very beautiful," Skyla agreed.

"Where's my Dad?" Apollo interrupted. It took Skyla a moment to realize he was talking to her.

"Oh Harry? He's talking with your—uh—Sirius."

"Will he be here soon?" Apollo pressed.

"Your guess is as good as mine, kid."

"He has a name you know," James said. "It's Apollo." The tension, noticeably rising, caused the conversation to almost stop completely. Even George's kids could sense something and stopped fidgeting.

"Well…I know," Skyla stuttered.

"Where did you meet my Dad?" Kara asked, turning wide innocent eyes on her. Skyla glanced uneasily among Harry's three children who were all watching her expectantly.

"We met in Paris," Skyla explained, a pretty smile on her face. Hermione looked darkly at her eggs. "Six months ago."

"Huh…June," James noted nodding.

"Yes that's right," Skyla replied. "Is that OK?"

"It's just…" James caught his mother's eye and shrugged. Harry was supposed to pick them up at the end of last school year and take them for most of the summer. They normally spent a lot of time at the quidditch pitch with their father but last summer he cancelled at the last minute and hadn't returned to the country until mid-July. Hermione knew what he was thinking and she knew that it hurt.

"Just what?" Skyla asked. Hermione could have kicked the woman. She didn't know when to leave well enough alone. Then again, she deserved what came next.

"Did you have a nice holiday in France?" James asked.

"We did. It wasn't planned but—"

"—but you had a nice time together in France. That's nice." Hermione took a deep breath when James went back to his cereal. He could have easily snapped at her and said something nasty but he didn't.

"Do you go to Dad's games?" Kara asked.

"From time to time," Skyla said with a shrug. Kara gaped at her. "Did I say something wrong?" Skyla asked, glancing around the table. Apollo snickered. Kara was a die-hard quidditch fan and unable to contemplate the fact that anyone was less die-hard than she.

"What is it that you do, Skyla?" Hermione asked, smiling as naturally as she could bring herself to smile. She knew Kara would not have the grace James displayed and intervention had been necessary.

"With Harry?" Skyla asked, taken aback. Hermione glanced at Kirsten with a ghost of a smile.

"For a living," She explained.

"Oh," Skyla replied, giggling. "I represent the Ministry of Magic Internationally. I work within several departments and serve on a variety of advising boards--"

"That's right," Ron said, suddenly looking up and paying attention. "Skyla Walsh; Ron Weasley, Head of the Department of Mysteries."

"Of course," Skyla said. "We're on the diplomatic relations and domestic security council."

"Er—yes..." Ron said. "We had a minor goblin problem the night of last meeting."

"No need to explain, sir," Skyla said and Ron turned red and buried himself behind his newspaper.

"Do you even _like _quidditch?" Kara asked, the awe of disbelief still etched into her face. Apollo snorted with laughter again.

Skyla turned a confused look on the girl. "I like it all right."

"You're dating my Dad and you don't go to _every_ quidditch game?"

"Kara," Hermione interrupted, her original ploy having failed she took more direct action. "I'm sure Skyla is probably working and doing other important things from time to time."

"But what could be more important than quidditch?"

"You are your father's daughter," Ginny said, shaking her head and smiling.

* * *

Angie watched as Sirius, then Harry, all smiles—too much so—entered the dining room. Harry was not outwardly affected but Angie could tell the conversation did not go well by Sirius's stiff and controlled movements.

Ebony's sharp green eyes scanned the room as she noted that everyone was now present and then she shouted: "Presents!"

Harry had to stand back to avoid the mass exodus as the children all tripped over each other to be the first out the door and the adults scrambled after them grabbing last minute bites and drinks along the way.

Somehow Hermione and Skyla ended up at the end at the doorway at the same time. Fate would have it like that. They all paused awkwardly as Harry and Hermione held each other's gaze. "Happy Christmas Hermione," Harry murmured.

"Happy Christmas," Hermione replied, the words barely above a whisper. Angie, the last one in the dining room, took one look at them and swooped in taking Hermione's arm and saying something about the children.

They all assembled haphazardly in the second largest living room. Angie and Sirius sat in the big leather chairs flanking the fireplace, a cheerful fire crackling between them. Ebony positioned herself directly in front of it. All thirty of the Weasleys, including the six named Malfoy, spread themselves out over one length of the room. The rest positioned themselves opposite them and most of the children converged somewhere in the middle.

Everyone was expectantly watching Sirius since he was always the one to release the magic and make the presents appear. He grinned broadly at their eager faces. "Before we get to all that shall we tell Angie what her Christmas present is this year?" Sirius asked of the room at large.

Ebony sighed audibly. "Get on with it then," she said.

"Well dear," Sirius said, turning to her with a grin. "You know how I had the devil of a time getting you to let me handle all the invitations and preparations for our New Year's Eve party this year?" He watched with amusement as her muscles tense.

"Yes, Sirius," She replied warily. A dozen worse-case scenarios flashed through her mind. He had mixed up the invitations, edited her guest list, had a life-size statue of himself made for the occasion…More followed but they were too awful to speak of.

"I really don't understand why you made such a fuss considering you always get so stressed out about all the planning, the guests, the arrangements, the decorators, the caterers, the music, the invitations…and then of course there is the clean up and the ritual of trying to talk to five hundred people and give them all your undivided attention…"

"Is this going somewhere?" Angie asked.

"Yes, Angie, happy Christmas, we're going to New York City for New Year's."

"What!?" She cried. "But—"

"Calm down," Sirius said hurriedly. "I sent out invitations—everyone here got one—that explained why there wasn't going to be a party this year that we were taking a year off, a break. Everything has been taken care of and we're taking a vacation."

"Sirius, I don't know what to say."

"Well, for the woman who has everything I figured a break was about the best thing I could give you."

"Wow…" She said, leaning back in her chair. "This is one of the best presents…ever…" Everyone smiled and cheered. Sirius grinned.

"OK, moving right along, now Dad's present and then let's get on with it!" Ebony said. Sirius and Angie smiled at her.

"OK, Ebony," Angie said. "Why don't you put on your adorable little elf's hat and go get it?"

Ebony rolled her eyes and scurried out of the room. She had barely disappeared however when she reappeared carrying a large frame. "Happy Christmas," She said, turning it over and handing it to Sirius.

He gasped in amazement as forty-one faces all gathered together were smiling and waving cheerily. He looked up at everyone sprawled around the room and then back down at the picture of them all and several of them chuckled. "Hey, that's me!" Sirius cried suddenly pointing.

"Yeah, I figured you would want to be a part of the picture of the family so I had you photoshopped in—and Harry too. He arrived at the party too late last night…" Harry blushed slightly.

"This is amazing," Sirius said. And it truly was. To have them all—_all of them—_together was a miracle.

"For the man who has everything," Angie said and he grinned. Ebony was looking at the two of them and impatiently tapping her foot.

"Oh, all right," Sirius said, flicking his wand and suddenly piles of presents appeared. One of George's younger ones squealed with delight and began happily ripping off paper.

At this point the Black's second largest living room was one of the happiest places on earth. No less than twenty children were inundated with presents bestowed upon them by wealthy and loving relatives and friends. And the rest were kids at heart, laughing and opening presents themselves.

Sirius sat down next to Hermione on the couch and gave her shoulders an affectionate squeeze. "Look what I found this morning?" Sirius said, pulling out a small, five by seven, framed photograph.

It was a picture of Hermione and Sirius, many years ago. Hermione was wearing the little black dress that Sirius had given her. "I heard about your date," Sirius said.

"My what?" Hermione exclaimed.

"The Minister asked you to go to a New Year's Eve party with him didn't he?" Sirius asked. Hermione glanced at Kirsten who quickly averted her eyes and pretended to be interested in her kids' presents. "Yes, he did," Sirius answered for her. "Don't you think it's about time?" He asked, waving the picture at her.

"Sirius…" Hermione said. "That would not be appropriate to wear…"

"Well, perhaps you're right. Why don't you and Kirsten go shopping tomorrow and buy a new dress for the occasion? Put it on my expense account, I didn't get you anything anyway. Angie and I were giving everyone bottles of wine but that didn't seem to be the right sort of gift for you…" Hermione cast her eyes downward. Sirius hadn't meant anything by what he said but what he was really saying seemed glaringly obvious to her. One person couldn't properly enjoy a bottle of wine…

"OK Sirius, thanks," She said.

"Don't mention it."

"Don't look now," Sierra said, coming over to them. "But I think someone just gave your youngest a sack full of dungbombs."

"That's my cue to leave," Sirius said. "Happy Christmas girls."

"Do you like my new wand?" Sierra asked, waving it around in the air. "Bill explained that it's to be my dueling mistress wand."

"It's…purple," Hermione said and Sierra laughed. "I know and all the spells come out purple. That way no one can tell what's coming."

"Oooh, interesting."

Just then James approached and gave Hermione a hug. "Thanks Mum," he said. "The new robes fit perfectly."

"Did Kara try hers on?" Hermione asked and James rolled his eyes. "Oh, I guess that answers that. Will you make sure they aren't lying on the floor getting wrinkled then? Thanks James. Hey, what did you get from your father?"

"We haven't opened those yet."

"Oh good, I want to come watch you." They made their way over to Harry and the others avoiding children at play and peals of laughter.

"Ah, there you are," Harry said when they arrived. He handed Hermione a beautiful bouquet of roses.

"Thank you," Hermione said, somewhat startled. She smelled the sweetness of them and took a seat on the floor next to the children and avoided looking at Skyla. "Kara, pick up your new robes."

"Can we open our presents now daddy?" Kara asked ignoring Hermione.

"Of course," Harry replied. He leaned back and put his arm around Skyla's shoulders, a pleased smile on his face.

James went first and opened a set of solid gold quills. "Um…Wow," he said, lifting one of them up. It glinted in the light. He wondered what in the world he would do with it.

"I figured since you were getting older a nice quill is good to have signing autographs and important documents, etc," Harry explained while Skyla looked on approvingly. James didn't point out that he was only thirteen and would not be signing important documents OR autographs. Instead he carefully placed the quill back in the box and mumbled thank you.

Kara ripped open the paper on her small package and squealed as she opened the little box to reveal a glittering diamond necklace. Hermione did a double take at the box and then gave Harry a look. Kara was eleven years old, for Merlin's sake!

"Mom, help me put it on," Kara said. "Mom? Ugh." Hermione was too distracted mentally cursing her ex-husband to realize what Kara was asking until she had moved on. Skyla was now clasping the necklace round her neck. Harry gave his daughter a hug and told her she was beautiful.

"Now ME!" Apollo said, pulling his rather large box toward him. With glittering eyes he tore open the paper and undid the strings to reveal a racing broom. Several people gasped as it rolled out onto the carpet.

It was not just a racing broom. It was THE racing broom. The top of the line, the fastest, best model yet. As a matter of fact, the model wasn't set to come out in stores for another two months. "Not fair," Kara breathed, as she and James both stared with hungry eyes at that broom.

Hermione could not believe Harry. As she looked from one child to the next the situation seemed to become more unbelievable. "WOW!" Apollo was shouting and hugging his Dad.

Several of the adults were now oohing and ahhing over the broom. "I got one for myself too," Harry said laughing. "That's what I'm going to be flying next season."

"Excuse me," Hermione muttered but no one paid attention. She slipped away to get a little air and curse her tactless ex.

Was Harry blind? Apollo was not even in school yet. The only time he'd ever been on a broom was last summer once when Sirius had started to give him flying lessons but had to cut the session short. Meanwhile Kara and James were both on the quidditch team and Kara's life was practically quidditch. Not to mention all the other kids who would no doubt be jealous.

And what was he thinking giving Kara diamonds? Of course she liked them; she was eleven and they were sparkly but she was on ELEVEN and the biggest tomboy Hermione had ever met. Kara certainly wouldn't be wearing her necklace on the quidditch pitch.

And what about James? Gold quills? Even HARRY couldn't possibly have much use for gold quills. And James was his oldest son—yet Harry didn't even know him. Hermione felt her face growing hot with anger and she flung herself down in a chair across the room from Harry and Skyla and all the commotion and dropped the bouquet of roses on the floor.

* * *

Angie set the children to work cleaning up and putting away all their gifts in eventual preparation for Christmas dinner. Most of the adults were doing likewise and Hermione hurried over to help her children—especially Apollo who was still too in awe of his broom to pay attention to anything else.

"Hang up your new robes—that means you Kara," Hermione called, standing in the doorway to the children's suite.

"Mum, we can handle it," James said through his teeth. For some reason Hermione's children were always strict about their privacy. For the most part Hermione didn't suspect them of insisting upon it so that they could do things they shouldn't; James especially relished in his role of responsibility. Hermione always assumed he was trying to take Harry's place.

"OK, I know," Hermione sighed. "I'll see you at dinner in a half hour."

"Shut the door please." Hermione did as her son instructed and starting walking down the hall. At the bend she ran into none other than Harry.

"Oh hi, Hermione," he said cheerfully. "Enjoying Christmas this year, are you?"

"I suppose," she replied, trying not to sound mad. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I hope your less than enthusiastic reply has nothing to do with me," he said, his voice subdued as they stopped in front of the entrance to the second-floor balcony.

"As a matter of fact it does," Hermione snapped, losing her cool. When Harry was around that happened a lot.

"I see. It is that the roses are the wrong color, jealousy, loneliness, my general presence, or some other self-righteous reason that has provoked you?" Bright red patches of anger blossomed in her cheeks as a wave of emotion rose from within.

She was about to respond when Remus happened by on his way downstairs. He was tactful enough not to make eye contact and hurried on his way. Hermione glanced back at Harry and he opened the door to the balcony. The two stepped outside and he closed it behind them.

Hermione folded her arms and faced him. "What is the matter with you?" She exploded. "Apollo doesn't even know how to fly and you got him a professional racing broom to the envy of all the other children—most of all your own who are actually quidditch players." She had to stop to inhale but Harry stayed silent, watching her stonily. His failure to defend himself further enraged her.

"You know, I might not be as upset about the broom if you were actually going to teach him how to use it. And if you knew anything about your other two children you would know that Kara is a tomboy who has next to no reason to wear a diamond necklace—not to mention the fact that she's _eleven_. And James is not you. What the hell is he supposed to do with golden quills? And further more I'm sure he is wondering why his younger brother, who can't even fly, got a new racing broom."

* * *

Once downstairs Remus immediately sought out Sirius and warned him of the brewing storm above. Harry and Hermione normally tolerated each other rather well and any argument they might have consisted of a few curt phrases—not unlike any married couple might exchange—and that was all. Sirius had heard second hand accounts of more colorful shouting matches but they weren't the norm with them. Still, Harry had been blundering around quite badly this Christmas and Hermione hadn't seemed in the best frame of mind from lack of sleep.

"I'll tactfully intervene, I think," Sirius muttered, rushing off. Angie bit her lip as she watched him take the stairs two at a time.

"I hate to see them arguing," She said to Remus, wringing her hands nervously.

"I'm sure it's just a minor disagreement," Remus assured her.

* * *

"Are you quite finished?" Harry asked.

"Without making a comment about your complete disregard for propriety and common decency by bringing Miss Skyla Walsh to our family Christmas celebration, yes, I believe I am."

"I've heard enough about Skyla from Sirius," Harry shouted. "It's none of your business."

"_None of my business!_ No, of course not. I'm sure that the children are _completely_ unaffected by their father bringing home his girlfriend—whom they've never even met—unexpectedly. On Christmas."

"Listen Hermione, I'm sorry that the Minister of Magic wasn't able to be at your side today so you wouldn't feel lonely. And I'm sorry that the kids didn't quite appreciate their new robes as much as my gifts, but they're kids. And I've moved on. Skyla is a part of my life now whether you or Sirius or Remus or the kids like it or not."

"Minister of Magic," Hermione sputtered indignantly. "How dare you insinuate—I am not the least concerned about your personal life!" Her mind was moving in too many directions too fast. "My concern only goes insofar as it affects the children—which this obviously does. By the way, James knows that you blew him off last summer to go frolicking around the French countryside with Skyla."

"What are you talking about? I didn't _blow off_ anyone."

"I suppose it was convenient that you had extended business in France last summer with enough spare time to entertain. You were supposed to take the children right after school got out but instead it was mid-July before you remembered you had kids and by that time they were almost ready to go back to school!"

"You're exaggerating and your accusations are unfounded. I don't understand why you people wonder why I try to avoid you at all costs. I admit I'm not the best father in the world but I've got rather pressing issues to juggle from time to time."

"That's no excuse—you're missing out on them growing up. And we are not 'you people' we're _your family_."

"I'm rather aware of that fact without your scathing reminders. And my work _is_ an excuse, damn it. I made a commitment to the public—I can't honestly choose my children over protecting the innocent."

"Oh well, sure, when you put it in such romantic terms," Hermione snapped. "And don't imply that I'm something less than you just because I don't share your line of work!"

* * *

Sirius found them—all he had to do was follow his ears. From the other side of the glass he couldn't quite make out the words but he could clearly see the two of them standing opposite each other, Harry's shoulders squared, his fists clenched and jaw set. Hermione was looking equally formidable with her arms folded rigidly across her chest and her cheeks red with anger and cold, no doubt.

"I wasn't implying anything of the sort," Harry replied loftily. Sirius went straight for them to break it up immediately. He knew Hermione at least would say things that she deeply regretted if she hadn't already. He pulled open the door to hear the last bit.

"Do you remember what you said to me when I got pregnant with James?" Hermione demanded. "You said 'I'm not going to put ambition or personal glory ahead of a human being.' I told you then not to make promises that you couldn't or didn't want to keep but you insisted. You said 'life happens'. Well, it's happening, damn it, and you're not a part of it."

Sirius cleared his throat loudly. "Oh look, it's your protector," Harry said sarcastically. He turned angry eyes on Sirius, who was hurt by such a look from his godson.

"I don't mean to interrupt," Sirius began.

"Like hell you don't," Harry hissed through his teeth. Sirius raised his voice and continued.

"BUT, your children are just down the hall, as is most of the family, and the two of you are behaving quite badly."

"I'm sorry Sirius," Hermione said hastily. With a nasty look at Harry she swept past Sirius and down the hall.

For several seconds Sirius and Harry stood in pregnant silence. "My apologies," Harry mumbled eventually. He would have rather stayed angry though.

"I require no such thing," Sirius said heavily.

"Pray leave off blaming me! I refuse to apologize to Hermione—she owes _me_ an apology."

"I won't pass judgment or attempt to mediate; it is your affair," Sirius said. "I was merely giving you opportunity to vent your feelings." Harry gave him the darkest look he could muster.

"Too little, too late and 'I require no such thing'!" Sirius stood rooted to the spot for several long minutes after Harry had departed in anger.

He was concerned about Harry. Certainly he couldn't think of Harry and Hermione as teenagers anymore; they were adults and conflict resolution was best left between them. Still, everyone had noticed the changes in Harry over the years. He wasn't the same young man who had thought the world of the Weasleys simply because Ron's Mom made him a Christmas sweater every year. It wasn't as if he suddenly didn't like the Weasleys it just seemed that Harry appreciated different things these days. He was clearly out of touch with his family and probably most people. Certainly his current girlfriend was lacking a little in the fully human department, evidenced by her constant ruthless pursuit of money that didn't belong to her.

Part of his falling out of touch was the life he was living. Harry had always been famous for being a hero but once Voldemort was dead that faded. Now he was heroic to the masses differently. He was a quidditch star. And the fame had changed him. He definitely was used to running with a different crowd now.

Sirius was used to running with a different crowd now as well. But his family, Angie especially, had always been able to keep him down to earth. He had suffered too much, been to the bottom for too long, to lose sight of the important things.

Of course, Sirius wasn't aware of the half of it. Harry was so bitter for the half-life he was forced to lead. Sneaking around as an international spy was not a job he was particularly fond of. Harry always told himself that he was doing what was right; protecting his family, himself, and innocent people. He didn't need praise or support—he just did what was right.

It wasn't as if Harry suddenly lost his desire to 'save the world'. But lately he couldn't stop himself from thinking that the so called 'innocent' people he was protecting included people like his Aunt and Uncle and other unmentionables. It was a strange thought, something that had never occurred to him before. And if it had he always told himself that it didn't matter. They didn't really deserve to be hurt or die—at least, he wasn't qualified to make such judgments no matter what they might have done.

But lately Harry knew he was bitter. His family, apparently, was aware as well. Strangely, seeing them always made him worse. They always seemed so disappointed in him. Of course, he knew Hermione was. That was a different matter that he regarded differently, however. But his children; James especially.

If they knew what he did for them every day. If any of them could understand…

But that was dangerous thinking and he knew it. They never asked him to work for the IAA.

* * *

Harry didn't meet James's eyes less than an hour later when he explained, hurriedly, to the family that he and Skyla would have to depart before dinner. But all his children, bless them, let him go silently, not protesting, just saying their dutiful good-byes.

Hermione reached out a hand and stopped him. Skyla had gone on ahead and was already outside. Harry stopped, looking from her outstretched hand up to her eyes. "Don't leave on my account," She whispered.

"I'm sorry Hermione," He mumbled and stepped outside. He really did mean it. An icy blast of air hit him in the face as the door shut behind him.

"Alone at last," Skyla said, a cheerful grin on her face. "Let's go to London."

Harry didn't return her smile, but left with her anyway.

* * *

Christmas continued normally, quite normally, in fact, without Harry around. No one really seemed to take much note and the house was soon filled with various shouts of the children (and the adults) trying out their Christmas presents. Angie led everyone who was interested in rowdy, slightly drunken, renditions of several Christmas carols.

The celebration continued long into the night even after Ron left to put in his obligatory time at the office and several of the Weasleys and other guests starting making their way home and the children retired to 'bed', though no one was watching them that night. They tucked themselves away in Ebony's room and amused themselves until they fell asleep.

Over the course of the next day all the guests trickled out, eventually leaving the Black mansion to the Black family. The undecorating and cleaning process could begin.

By the 28th cleaning up was in full swing. Ebony was doing her best to hide from her mother who would undoubtedly put her to work doing chores if found.

Sirius came striding down the hallway past her room as she was about to dart out and saw her.

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed, trying to stop her from slamming her door shut. A quick flick of the wand had the door open a second later.

"Really busy Dad," Ebony said quickly, hoping to get out of whatever task he was most definitely going to assign to her.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "Have you seen your mother?"

"What do you take me for? Crazy?" Ebony asked.

"You're not doing this properly," Sirius informed his daughter. "If you really want to avoid doing housework you need to keep tabs on her at all times. Otherwise, she might just sneak up on you when you least expect it."

"Thanks for the advice."

"Well anyway, if she happens to be looking for me, tell her I've had to run to London for a bit. But, I'll be home for dinner."

"Can I come?" Ebony asked. He regarded her bright green eyes for a second.

"Sorry, I'm doing important business. You'll have to stay here and fend for yourself."

"What luck," Ebony complained. "You're going to New York City without me, you're going to London without me…"

"Not going to work this time," Sirius informed her. "I'll make it up to you though. What should I get you from America?"

"I want an indoor quidditch pitch," Ebony said unhesitatingly.

"Well, that's a rather tall order. I don't think they make many of those in New York."

"Not from America. I want to build one here. We could connect it to the north wing. There's that big open space there where we normally play outside, but in the winter…"

She saw a certain spark flare in her Dad's eyes and knew she hadn't done wrong in voicing her desire aloud to him. "It really wouldn't be that big of a deal. I mean, it would be much safer than dodging the chandeliers in the ballroom."

"You were flying in the ballroom again?"

"Um…no…"

"_Ebony_," Sirius said. "You know how your mother gets about that."

"But we had nothing else to do Christmas night," she complained.

"Oh great…you incite your cousins to wickedness as well. Oh no…please tell me Apollo wasn't on his new racing broom…He doesn't know how to fly."

"Not very well at least," Ebony said, wrinkling her nose.

"Oh God," Sirius intoned. "He could have been hurt. You could have broken something."

"Right…um…there may or may not be a loose banister on the balcony of the east staircase."

"Ebony!" Sirius shouted.

"What Dad?" she asked, her green eyes glowing innocently. "This is just further proof of how much we _need_ an indoor pitch."

Sirius glanced at his watch. "I've got to go, but we'll talk about this later. This new incident may hinder your chances…"

"No, you're fear of Mom may hinder our chances."

"I am not _afraid_ of your mother." Ebony shrugged in her arrogant little way and Sirius wanted to ask, "why me?" "Tell one of the house-elves about the banister, immediately," Sirius instructed. "What will definitely hinder our chances is your mother putting weight on that banister and falling."

"OK Dad."

"I'm not through with you," Sirius warned.

"OK Dad."

* * *

"I want out," Sirius said, pacing Ron's office.

"Noted. _Again_," Ron said, rubbing his eyes wearily.

"Noted and that's it. Five years now I've been saying that and you have yet to do a damn thing about it!" Sirius stopped now, shoulders thrown back and face flushed in anger. He planted his feet firmly on the ground and glared down at Ron who looked small and old behind his massive, careworn desk.

"How many times must we repeat this speech?" Ron wondered aloud. "You have a contract. You work for us. You _volunteered_ to work for us. This job is not going to be a big deal anyway. And you're already going to be in New York City."

"That has nothing to do with it," Sirius said angrily, resuming his pacing. Ron was pretty sure there was a groove in the floor where Sirius paced. He wasn't he only one who paced nervously, angrily, around the Head of the Department of Mysteries Office. There was a lot of pacing. But Sirius was the most accomplished pacer. He was there often and he _always_ paced.

"All I can do is note your request to end your contract. Maybe the one-hundred and forty-fourth time's a charm."

"Don't mock me," Sirius said. Ironically that statement had been less angry than the previous ones; just sort of thrown out there in passing.

"I don't mean to," Ron replied sincerely. "If there was something I could do…" Sirius slapped both palms on the desk and leaned over it, his eyes wild with emotion.

"YOU are the _Head_ of the Department. What do I need, permission from the Pope!? Certainly it's not the Minister who has authority over you. Who the hell else is there?"

"Sure, I'm the Head. The provisional director. The public persona—I'll be the one assassinated should someone want to try. But you don't honestly believe that the sole power of the secrets of this entire government are entrusted and vested in _one man_?" Sirius's expression changed gradually as the revelation sunk in. "Sit down, Sirius," Ron said wearily and he obeyed.

"My executive power is very limited. Mostly I just field crises and carry out orders. Sure, I know a lot, but the decisions are handed down through someone else. There are at least three of us "Heads"—we don't know who each other are, and I doubt anyone else knows there are others. Not even the Minister of Magic is clear on how this department is run. If there was something I could do for you, Sirius, I would have done it years ago.

"Now, are you accepting this mission? You know the consequences if you do not."

Sirius's muscles flexed again at the reminder. The contract he was magically bound to included automatic provisions that would force him to cooperate under penalty of a number of unpleasant things, possibly being turned to stone or thrown into Azkaban without trial. He also could not discuss his work with anyone, even under duress, without incurring such consequences.

"Of course I accept. I haven't a choice as you pointed out. I want the request to tell my wife about my job renewed and prioritized. How I am expected to carry out operations with a new organization and with crazy Americans under her nose is beyond me. Perhaps the circumstances will have changed to a need-to-know basis and I can finally get clearance to tell. Kirsten knows, I can't live hiding this from Angie much longer. Ron, it's not a question of my will, it's just going to happen. And I can't say that things will get better once I tell her. Over fourteen years now…she'll never understand."

"Sirius, I've said it before, I'll repeat it now. Neither Kirsten nor I will be able to help you should you tell Angie. I don't know what would happen if you told her. You might end up in an insane asylum or Azkaban or dead. Don't do it."

"What happens if I'm arrested during the course of business?" Sirius asked.

"Don't try it. Don't risk it," Ron advised a vein throbbing in his head. "I _will _prioritize your retirement and at the very least try to reason with authority on who can be included in the realm of trust. You must know this is as stressful to me as it is to you."

"Ron, you're my son-in-law and I love you and I know that you do care about the situation and want to make it go away. But don't presume to understand what it is like to lie to your wife; to have a reputation in the business world for underhanded dealings, involvement in illegal smuggling markets; to live two lives. There are certainly things you have to keep from Kirsten but she understands. She _knows_."

"I was only trying to convey my commiseration, Sirius," Ron said delicately. "You'll be briefed before you leave. Contacts will be established before you depart," he said, returning to the new business at hand.

"I want something done about my wife. It's just the two of us on vacation. How am I supposed to conduct illegal business?"

"I'll do my best."

Sirius stormed out of the office swearing. Ron sank into his chair and took an antacid.

* * *

Sirius didn't receive clearance from anybody about anything. He was only charged with a new assignment. When he arrived in America he decided to cheat. If the Department wasn't going to help him he wasn't going to help them. At least, not at the expense of his marriage.

He had made arrangements in advance to conduct business but he wasn't actually going to put in any face time. Instead he arranged the entire illegal transaction through one of his underlings from Black&Black Cauldrons. Of course, he probably wouldn't turn up any useful information or be able to lead to an arrest in this case but he'd neatly explain that away, claiming that the other side was shadier than expected.

He was still nervous and his stomach tap-danced all day when Angie would give him a peculiar look. He knew he was being uptight but he couldn't help it. He needed to hear from his man that everything went OK.

They were camped out at Rockefeller plaza early evening when he was finally able to relax. The job had been completed and had gone off without a hitch. He had seen his man who gave him a single wink and then disappeared into the crowds.

He blew out a sigh. He wouldn't be able to tell the Ministry anything useful but he could enjoy himself with his wife now and he would vowed not to lose anymore sleep over the incident.

* * *

"Dad! Can we take a tour of the dungeons?" Aurora asked Draco, batting her eyelashes and smiling. Draco looked up at all the eager faces. It was New Year's Eve and Malfoy Manor had been designated as the hang out spot for the kids; aka the people not going to parties or New York City.

Aside from his children, Ebony, Drew, Sami, James, Kara, and Apollo were all over. Draco and Ginny didn't feel like babysitters; they felt like a daycare center, or, more likely, since most of the kids were teenagers, chaperones.

At any rate one of the most interesting things to do in Malfoy Manor was explore. Though Draco and Ginny had happily and peacefully occupied the place for many years now and had added a number of lighter decorating touches much of the furniture and paraphernalia was still the original.

Draco himself admitted to a certain like, in a collector's sense, of the dark material and furniture in the house. He had been saving some of it and putting it on display museum-style in certain places in the house. He and Ginny had mutually agreed never to touch the dungeons, however, as no one really went down there without having their hair stand on end.

The children, however, thought it was great fun to go exploring, rather like going to a haunted house. Draco tore his eyes from his daughter's and glanced at his wife.

She shrugged. "Take a house elf and several torches," she said.

"And don't touch anything, or start fighting and get hurt," Draco added.

"Don't fall in a hole."

"And don't get locked in a cell."

"And be back before midnight!"

The kids had started leaving the moment Ginny had said 'take a house elf'. "Maybe you should go with them," Ginny said to Draco as they disappeared.

"There are ten of them. I think they can handle a little jaunt in the dungeons. And besides, how often are we able to get rid of all four—er—ten of them at once?"

Ginny smiled at Draco and lay down on the sofa next to him. Some people were in London, some New York City, others Paris, but she was content right here at home.

* * *

"Kirsten, _honey,_" Ron shouted up the stairs at his 'running-a-little-late' wife. "For Merlin's sake…" He kept alternating between straightening his tie and glancing at his watch.

"Would you hold on just a minute," Kirsten snapped from the top of the stairs as she made her descent. "_For Merlin's sake!_ We're not even going to be late."

"The party started at eight. It's eight-fifteen."

"Ronald," Kirsten rolled her eyes and fixed her hair in the mirror. Ron re-adjusted his tie beside her. "No one goes to a party when it starts." She glanced up at him and then turned around to fix his perfectly straight tie for him.

Suddenly a fire blazed in the grate and Hermione appeared, brushing a few stray ashes from her stunning evening attire. She was grinning—positively beaming—and Kirsten forgot what she was doing.

"Ron! Look at her!" She exclaimed, practically knocking over a chair to give Hermione a hug. Ron gave Hermione a cursory glance and nodded his approval.

He was happy for Hermione and for the Minister of Magic but he knew it would be awkward and difficult for a relationship to occur between the two of them. And that dress was not helping…

After a few minutes Ron started tapping his watch and making irritated sighs. Hermione and Kirsten exchanged a knowing look. With a whispered good luck and an excited good-bye Ron and Kirsten headed to London and Hermione went to meet her date, the Minister of Magic, David Owens.

* * *

"Sirius, _stop_ it," Angie hissed, trying to sound severe and failing through a fit of giggles.

"What?" her husband responded in innocent tones, "It's not like anyone even noticed."

"That is not the point! The point is…er…"

"There is no point," Sirius finished, and kissed her without warning. She giggled against his lips.

"You're early. It's not near midnight yet."

"Whatever," he responded, and kissed her again.

If the crowds pressing in on either side of them were in any way bothered by the flagrantly public display of affection, no one said anything. Most of them were too trashed to notice anyway, and they weren't the only couple keeping warm that way. It seemed Sirius was right, no one had even noticed when sparks just flew up seemingly from no where, although Angie knew they had come from the wand hidden up his sleeve.

Angie hadn't mentioned it to Sirius, because she didn't want him to think his Christmas gift had been anything less than perfect, but she had been rather nervous about returning to America; the place where she had spent the hellish years of her previous marriage and divorce, the place where she had spent most of her days hiding the alcohol on her breath. However, New York City was a far cry from the suburbs of Los Angeles. Even the accents were different. The voices around them were from all over the world, with Japanese tourists snapping pictures of everything to their left, an American southern drawl behind, the flat nasal twang of the Midwest and a couple with the "eh"s of Canada on their left, and the unmistakable accent of Brooklyners who had managed to push their way in front of everyone else.

A bitter wind swept through the mass of people, but it did nothing to dampen the spirits. If nothing else, Americans knew how to have a good time. Angie laughed aloud and let Sirius wrap his arms around her to protect her from the pickpockets as much as the cold, as if she couldn't handle a few Muggle punks. She closed her eyes for a moment and reveled in feelings of happiness and contentment. It was about time she gave America a second chance and made some memories with a husband who actually cared about her.

* * *

Hermione caught herself chewing on her lower lip and scolded herself mentally. It would not do to appear an inexperienced school girl when about to meet the Minister of Magic (a younger man) as his escort to a formal ball.

She planted the word "escort" firmly in her mind. She refused to be called his "date" even in her own mind. In her experience, relationships with the rich and powerful men of the world only led to trouble. Perhaps escort wasn't the right word though…it carried certain negative connotations. And if she wasn't his date…what was she? His escort…uh-oh she was chewing her lip again.

The fringe benefits of a relationship with the rich and powerful were hard to ignore, though, as she stood in one of the lavish parlors of the Minister's manor on the outskirts of London. "Manor" was really too common a term, the estate was only a short step short of a palace. She had been greeted by a servant who opened the door before she had a chance to knock. This in itself was impressive; even the oldest families didn't have more than house elves these days (except for Sirius who employed probably half the country in one way or another…). Personally, Hermione preferred human service to house elves; at least the humans were paid.

Unfortunately, her sniff of disapproval as she thought of house-elves happened to correspond with the moment David Owens swept into the parlor. His face flushed slightly and he practically stumbled in his apology: "Hermione, I didn't mean to keep you waiting, I was reviewing some papers sent by the Department of—"

"No, no, it's not a problem at all," she said quickly, trying to hide her own embarrassment as she realized how that disapproving frown must have appeared to him. Not that she should be caring how he interpreted her looks. Was he interpreting her looks?

The light blush coloring her cheekbones only made her more beautiful in her crimson gown. The color and cut were probably too forward for a mere "escort," but it was the only formal attire she owned beside the one she had worn at Christmas, and she wasn't going to fool herself by fretting over which new gown to buy.

David flashed a handsome smile that cleared the air. "I'm so glad to see you again." Hermione, despite herself, flushed and lowered her eyes modestly.

"It is good to see you too."

"I hope you don't mind traveling by floo network," he said, leading her into a lushly carpeted room on the right. "It's the fastest way to get to Paris."

"Paris!" Hermione repeated. "I speak a little French," she said, thinking aloud.

He laughed. "Vraiment? Moi aussi. It comes in handy being the Minister of Magic. I also speak conversational Spanish, German, Arabic, and gobbledegook. But only because I was forced to learn." A servant approached them, bowed slightly, and presented David with a small corsage and a crimson pocket square to match Hermione's dress.

Pinning the corsage on her he said, "This always feels a bit like a school dance routine to me. But we can't neglect the formal details. I should warn you, this party is going to include a number of very important people in the world and security will be present. That's what the corsages are for," David explained. "They'll be scanned to identify and track you. It's a horrible invasion of personal liberty but world leaders are paranoid."

"It doesn't interfere with my plans any," Hermione replied. "Tonight, I'll let you do the introductions. I'm sure I won't know anyone."

"Ah, but they know you," David said. "Harry Potter is perhaps even more famous internationally in this day in age than here at home."

"Oh no," Hermione said receiving her first serious confidence check. "What will people say about you?"

"Oh the usual, I suppose. Look there's Owens, that young incompetent Englishman. But look at the beautiful woman with him tonight."

"You're too kind, always," Hermione murmured. "I imagine Harry Potter's ex-wife is not a suitable date for the Minister of Magic."

"Nonsense," David said. "I'll hear no more of it. Let us be off!" He grabbed a handful of floo powder and her hand and in an instant they were swirling through the network.

* * *

"Drink up, honey, or I'm going to be way ahead of you by midnight," Kirsten said, pressing another glass of champagne into Ron's hand. His _other _hand. He already had a half full glass. Kirsten raised her eyebrows at him and took a drink of her third…or was it fourth glass?

"Kirsten, I know some of my colleagues enjoy making idiots of themselves in front of their subordinates to, I dunno, lighten the atmosphere at work or something, but I don't think it's proper for the Head of the Department of Mysteries to get fantastically drunk at the New Year's Eve party."

"Oh come on, Ron. It will help you meet the people who actually work at the Ministry. You're so much more social when you're drunk."

"That's exactly not the point," Ron said, finishing the one glass just to get rid of one and free one of his hands. "It's because I'm work for the Department of _Mysteries_ that I don't know a lot of these people. They aren't supposed to know me."

"Don't look now but someone you know very well just arrived," Kirsten said seriously, looking over top of his shoulder. Ron turned and easily spotted, in the center of a crowd, Harry Potter and the ever-present Skyla Walsh.

"Good thing Hermione didn't come with us," Ron said.

"Hermione looks amazing tonight. Much better than _her._" Ron eyed Skyla from top to bottom and shrugged.

"I don't see the problem." Kirsten smacked her husband on the arm.

"First of all, your loyalty is to Hermione. So naturally she looks better than Skyla. And secondly, that woman screams prostitute."

"I will never understand women and their obsession with looks," Ron said. "Do you ever hear a man calling another man a prostitute?"

* * *

The trek down to the dungeons was a long one and slowly Ebony managed to pull the twins to the back of the group so that they could speak privately. "Let's lock Cora in a cell. Who's with me?" She said, her green eyes glowing sinisterly in the wand-light.

The twins snickered and put in their approval. Any chance to tease their older sister was enthusiastically taken. Ebony and Cora being the oldest and closest in age had a strange friendship. They, in many ways, allied at school over the younger ones and understood each other best, but at the same time they were constantly at odds. And Ebony was always the most devious one of the group being a direct offspring of Sirius's.

"Apollo!" Arista whispered, pulling him aside as they walked. "Your mission: should you choose to accept…" Apollo was generally in for a little mischief and many times because he was one of the youngest wasn't suspected. He grinned in the darkness and gave Ebony a thumbs-up across the way after he heard the proposal. They were going to get Cora good.

"Do you remember that time we found that shriveled eye ball?" Drew asked of the group at large.

"_Ew_," Kara said. "That was disgusting."

"Maybe it was Mad-Eye Moody's missing eye," someone suggested. A chorus of "grosses" and laughs replied.

"Is someone keeping track of the time?" Max asked. "I don't want to be down here for the New Year."

"What are you _scared_?" Apollo teased.

"I want to be where the food and the drinks are for midnight, that's all," Max replied.

"Hey Cora…" Apollo said, eager to set this plan in motion. Ebony grinned wickedly as she watched him work.

* * *

"I still can't believe Ron turned me down to go to the Ministry tonight," Jack Taylor was saying a few minutes before midnight. Hermione's head was spinning. She hadn't met so many titled people so fast since the early years with Harry and it was thrilling and overwhelming all at the same time.

David seemed to share her sentiment. He was shining with excitement and possibly a little alcoholic glow but there was a weariness already being expressed in his body language. Their host, Jack Taylor, former Head of the Department of Mysteries, had spoken with them earlier in the evening before passing them off to what became a chain of endless foreign dignitaries. Just when she and David became accustomed to new accented English a new one arrived.

Now, as the highlight of the evening was upon them Jack Taylor had snagged them again, eager to discuss one of his favorite agents ever. Of course, it had helped that Ron had saved Jack's life before he stepped down as Head. Hermione knew Jack's affection for Ron went beyond that…some complicated chess understanding no doubt.

"Well, someone should be there in case there's a national crisis," David said with a laugh. "Everyone else in the world seems to be here."

They laughed and talked idly about Ron for a few more minutes before Jack dismissed himself, going off to find his wife for the New Year. He had left so suddenly Hermione and David found themselves standing alone, at least, keeping their own company for once, as the last minute started to tick away.

Hermione was aware her heartbeat was rising steadily higher as midnight drew near. This year was about to be and would never return…David had turned to face her as the final seconds ticked away. Everyone cheered around them and hugged and made noise and chinked glasses, took drinks. She and David had their eyes locked together…caught in a long "New Year" moment.

A second later they were lip-locked. It wasn't anything over-the-top, just a friendly, happy new year kiss. But both were grinning when it was over, deeply satisfied. David snagged two full glasses of champagne for them and Hermione decided this year was going to be all right.

* * *

"Is everybody here?" Draco shouted over the din of loud of voices in the living room.

"_Now_," Cora said irritably. Turns out she didn't take well to being locked in a dungeon and left in the dark. Ebony hid her grin. Draco gave the group a stern look in order to avoid laughing. Not that he didn't think being locked in one of those dungeons was unpleasant, to say the least, but he was also secretly amused.

"Get ready to count down," Ginny instructed. "Everybody have a glass?" She and Draco hadn't even bothered opening any wine or champagne for just the two of them so everyone had their own non-alcoholic drink of choice at the ready for a massive toast at midnight.

As they counted down the final seconds to the New Year Ginny repressed the urge to remind everyone to mind the carpet when they toasted and concentrated on the moment.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" They shouted. Ginny and Draco kissed briefly before toasting. Their children groaned as they did and some of the others laughed.

Ebony chinked her glass a couple of times and then drained her pumpkin juice. "Come _on_," she was saying impatiently. "Let's get to the fireworks."

* * *

"Ron, you're going to have to take me home right after this," Kirsten said seriously. Ron raised his eyebrows and she lost what little ability she had to control herself and burst into laughter. She'd done a lot of drinking.

"Fine by me," Ron said. "It's not often we have an opportunity like this one," he continued, sliding a finger underneath one of her spaghetti straps. She giggled and her eyes sparkled almost as much as her necklace.

They counted down the New Year and Kirsten polished off yet another one. The kiss she gave Ron was slightly inappropriate for the public setting but he hardly cared. He caught Harry's eye across the room and the two raised a glass to each other.

Then he and Kirsten hurried home.

* * *

"So Mrs. Black," Sirius said, speaking directly in Angie's ear. He was standing behind her, holding her close for warmth and his mouth happened to be at a good level with her ear. She moved her head slightly away from his hot breath and lips that were tickling her ear. "Would you rather be at home now?" They were within a few minutes of midnight, so now seemed the appropriate time for that question.

"Are you joking?" Angie asked, turning around in his arms to face him. "We'd be kissing somebody's ass just now, classily subduing the foreign ambassador from China who's already had too much to drink, and praying the champagne outlasts the guests."

"And stays out of Ebony's hands," Sirius interjected and then laughed. "In truth, this was as much a Christmas gift to me as it was to you."

"Tell me the truth, did you take on the responsibility of making arrangements, find it too hard and then come up with my Christmas present or was it completely premeditated."

"Truthfully, it was premeditated, though the other alternative sounds like something I'd do."

"Any last words of the year?" Angie asked, the ball would be dropping soon. Sirius looked deeply into her eyes. For a moment his mind flickered to his job with the Department of Mysteries but forced it away.

"I love you."

"Good answer," Angie said, turning around to watch the ball drop. The excitement of thousands of people as that ball of light dropped, counting down the last seconds of the year, was unlike anything Angie had ever experienced. And she'd performed for packed concert halls with huge crowds of screaming fans—he heart always racing with adrenaline that gave her a natural high. But this was different, it was even more profound. Thousands of voices rose together in unison counting it down.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

And then the world burst into light and confetti and bursting human expression. Angie grabbed Sirius firmly around the back of his neck and planted a kiss on his lips.

* * *

"Adieu, adieu ma Cherie," David intoned early the next morning at the entrance to Potter's estate. He kissed her hand and she giggled.

"You're drunk," she said.

"You're right," he replied with obvious relish. "Can't remember the last time that happened. Do you think I'll regret it later?"

"Most definitely."

"Hmmm," he said thoughtfully. "I think…it was worth it. Hermione…" He started to lean toward her and his eyes flicked momentarily to the side. Keeping quite a distance and being very discreet all night an agent still remained with David Owens Minister of Magic wherever he went.

Hermione felt her own eyes slide in that direction uncontrollably and then back again. David's eyes were shining as he met hers. He shrugged almost imperceptibly and then lowered his mouth to hers.

"David," Hermione said breathlessly as they pulled apart.

"Too forward?" He asked, releasing her and grinning. A faint blush warmed his cheeks.

"No—I…well…" she laughed nervously.

"When will I see you again?" David asked, changing subjects. He rocked back on his heels perhaps nervously, perhaps because he was tipsy.

"Sometime this year I expect."

"Vague. You won't escape me," David warned. "But perhaps I had better get going now."

"Perhaps you had better," Hermione agreed, a slight smile on her lips.

"One last kiss," David said, doing just that. Then he turned and walked down the path, hands in pockets, whistling merrily.

* * *

"KARA!" Hermione shouted for the third or fourth time that morning. It was time to return to Hogwarts but Kara didn't seem too interested. She turned to James.

"Did you actually see her physically out of bed?" James laughed.

"Well yeah, but only once."

"Kara! If you don't get down here in two minutes I'm sending Apollo in to get you out."

"COMING!" came the swift reply. Hermione gave James a satisfied smile. Nothing like the threat of annoying little brother to move her along. James shook his head and had another bite to eat.

The doorbell rang. "Kara! That's Angie and Ebony. You're going to miss breakfast if not the carriages," Hermione said, answering the door.

"Sirius," Hermione said in surprise when she opened the door. Ebony, of course, was standing next to him, her trunk floating behind them.

"Indeed," he replied. "I'm sorry to do this Hermione but I'm in a hurry and Angie's not feeling well this morning…" he trailed off and glanced at his daughter.

"I don't mind," Hermione said, understanding that Sirius needed to leave Ebony in her care.

"Well _I_ do," Ebony said. Sirius rolled his eyes.

"Yes, we've already established this morning that you're the product of absolutely atrocious parents. Three times now."

"You don't even care about me. I'm supposed to be the most important person in your life. Prioritize, father." Hermione compressed her lips to hide her mirth as Ebony gave her father a horrible scowl. Sirius looked at her with a strange mixture of anger and bemusement on his face.

"_Darling_," Sirius said, "I've had three different people in my office this morning already about a shipment of _my_ cauldrons seized while going through customs into Ethiopia because of a concealed stash of contraband. Supposedly. If I don't take care of this I will not be able to build you an indoor quidditch pitch from Azkaban."

"Indoor quidditch pitch!?" Kara repeated, finally descending the stairs, trunk in tow.

"He's just saying that to appease me," Ebony explained.

"Excuse me, young lady. What if I mention to your mother how you and your cousins knocked the staircase banister loose while flying in the house on Christmas? She's already out of sorts with you for locking Cora in the torture chamber."

"Oh fine, go take care of your cauldron blah, blah, blah. I'll survive somehow without you."

"Have a good term," Sirius said, ruffling her hair (though she tried to avoid this). He winked at Hermione. "Thanks," he said to her, and then disapparated. Ebony seemed to dismiss the incident the moment he had disappeared and strode inside the Potter's house.

"Sirius is building an indoor quidditch pitch," Kara announced to her brothers a moment later.

"Cool!" Apollo said. James only lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

"I can't imagine Angie agreeing to that," Hermione muttered. Ebony wrinkled her nose at this.

"She'll come around."

* * *

The kids arrived at the platform in Hogsmeade a few minutes before the Hogwart's Express was due. Ginny, who was going to Hogwarts to work, herded them into carriages and sent them up to the castle a bit early. "Meeting tomorrow night at Headquarters," Ebony announced to the carriage while Ginny was still outside. "Spread the word."

"Bye, hon," Draco said, giving Ginny a quick kiss. "I'll see you tonight."

"Well, I've got to go in to work," Kirsten said glancing at the clock.

"OK, see you later," Hermione said.

"Bye," Draco and the boys added as Kirsten took her leave.

"What's on your agenda today, Max?" Hermione asked, as she and Apollo headed toward town with Draco and Max.

Max shrugged, disinterested in conversation. "I thought we'd pick a few things up for a real nice dinner for your Mum tonight," Draco said. "What do you think?"

"Whatever," he replied. Draco rolled his eyes and exchanged a smile with Hermione.

"Rough life," Draco said. "Stuck with boring Dad all day."

"And Apollo's with me," Hermione said, giving him a poke. He gave her an irritable look and put another step of distance in between him and his mother.

"Well, we'll see you on Tuesday and I'll try to think of something non-boring to do," Draco said to Apollo. He nodded OK and then they went their separate ways.

"I was thinking about getting a cat, Apollo. What do you think?" He shrugged in response.

"Do you like cats?" Shrug.

"What kind of animals do you like?" Shrug.

"Do you have any opinions this morning?"

Shrug.

* * *

It was Apollo's day at the Malfoy's and Hermione found herself all alone in her house with no particular plans. I mean, sure, she needed to make an appointment to have the drapes cleaned and the trophy room was past due on it's annual cleaning—why she had to have Harry's trophies cleaned always annoyed her but she never brought it up in disputes. It was simply at the bottom of a long list of complaints that never got around to surfacing because someone would always storm off before it had progressed that far. Besides, the kids, especially Kara liked to have the memorabilia around.

She was having a cup of coffee and skimming the _Daily Prophet_ when an owl landed on the perch outside the window and hooted impatiently. She hurried over and took the small letter from its leg. Before leaving, it dropped a red rose and a box of chocolates on her lap.

Wondering at the rose, she picked it up and put it in a small vase and then unfolded the small piece of parchment. It bore an official seal and she was wondering if Ron had been feeling in a particular generous mood. Not that it happened often and he'd never sent flowers before but sometimes he would send odds and ends from his travels if he thought about it. Kirsten always got flowers. Sometimes she (Hermione) got chocolates though.

But the handwriting was unfamiliar, small and tight. "Good morning! I hope this finds you well and in good spirits. I would like to have dinner with you soon. If you can't get a hold of me talk to my secretary. Sorry for the inconvenience. _David._"

_David Owens, Minister of Magic._ Hermione thought, turning over the parchment and looking at the broken seal again. Then she read the letter again and smiled. Making a date through his secretary…poor man. She wasn't offended by this. She knew enough desperately important people to understand and she knew also what his life was like.

He was exactly the sort of person she ought to not be involved with. But he was different than Harry…

She leaned over and smelled her rose and was daydreaming when Harry arrived quite unexpectedly.

The fireplace in their kitchen was huge, a gaping hole for the grate, yet tastefully designed to be a focal point in the vastness of the kitchen and seating area around. There were several things on the mantelpiece, pictures, plants, books, floo powder… There was a very pretty oriental rug purchased some years ago in front of the fireplace. When the children were young they had tested Hermione's housekeeping skills as she countless times had to clean unidentifiable stains out of it—this owing to its close proximity to the kitchen table.

It was now covered with a great scattering of sooty ash. Harry had burst abruptly out of the grate, clutching his head, and stumbled, as if drunk, into the table and chairs and onto the floor. He had righted himself immediately but proceeded with no more control over his balance than before and finally caught himself on the countertop next to Hermione. He knocked over the newly received rose and shattered the small glass vase Hermione had just put it in.

She barely had time to notice or care about that, however. For one thing, Harry hadn't set foot in the house for almost three years now. For another, he never spoke to her unless it was about the children or at family gatherings. And lastly, and most pressingly, he was quite obviously in a great amount of pain. Something was desperately wrong.

After his initial arrival, once he made it to the counter, he seemed to calm ever so slightly but he was no less alarming. He hadn't yet acknowledged her presence and he was clinging to the countertop for dear life, gasping in ragged and rapid breaths. His green eyes blazed with something, but not recognition. They were looking right past her.

Hermione took out her wand as a precautionary measure. "Harry?" She asked, her voice cracking wildly. His eyes flicked to her for a moment, something sparked there, and then they went dull and rolled up in his head.

She screamed as he keeled over, banging his head on the countertop on the way down.

* * *

Crystal Regained

By Kirsten Star Weasley

"Go, _honestly._ It will be fine. You need a break," Kirsten urged her parents.

"She's right. Nothing will have changed in two weeks," Ron added helpfully.

Sirius and Angie, though they had been happily married (again) for four days now, looked weary and careworn. The wedding had been splendid, the reception, so much fun. Everything in the world seemed to have righted itself.

And then James Potter had appeared. _James Potter._

Kirsten had not been nearly affected by this as _any_ of the rest of them but nevertheless, she was aware that he was quite dead, and then suddenly, not. That was indeed disturbing. And his presence with Elizabeth Hoffenmeijer, who was known to be possessed by the little known about Zirconia… that was even more disturbing. To Kirsten anyway, Zirconia seemed the bigger threat or thing to worry about.

Sirius looked at his wife, his expression hard to read. Angie's deep confliction played out clearly on her face. Sirius gave her shoulders a squeeze. "Whatever you think," Sirius whispered.

Kirsten watched the lines in her mother's face deepen. "I'm just afraid I won't be able to enjoy the honeymoon if we haven't gotten any answers yet," Angie said finally.

"I'm afraid we're not going to get any answers," Ron replied. The Ministry, especially his Department, had understandably been interested in the incident. Ron had been away working long hours with no success. They had all been interviewed extensively by aurors from the Ministry and aurors from the International Auror Association. The people in power over there were really in trouble with international tribunals. It seemed every major world Ministry was litigating and investigating, wondering if their contributions to the IAA were worth it anymore or were actually mismanaged and causing more harm than good. Elizabeth Hoffenmeijer's power had proved bad for the world and was now coming back to haunt the IAA. She, as Zirconia, was able to commandeer the Carbonated Crystal, possibly the most deadly and most magically powerful object existing in the world today. So, politically and bureaucratically everyone was fighting, and on the investigation end of things, nothing had turned up. Everyone was too busy pointing fingers at each other.

(Thus the split between friendly cooperation among the IAA and the Ministry of Magic. Old grudges die hard.)

And yet others had passed off the appearance of James Potter as a trick of the light or a stunt to serve as a warning to Kirsten or any of them that had dared stand against Zirconia in the first place. Harry had ordered the excavation of his father's grave but the missing remains still seemed to prove nothing to those convinced to downplay the incident and it had been a terribly painful experience for all who in some way knew James Potter. To the outside world it just wasn't possible so soon after the ultimate downfall of Lord Voldemort that there could be another connection, another overarching evil in the world.

"I really think that the best thing you can do is to get away from all this for a while," Kirsten repeated to her parents.

"I guess it can't hurt to try," Sirius said.

"I suppose so," Angie added reluctantly. "Don't hesitate to contact us, though," she said quickly.

"You'll go then?" Kirsten asked, brightening considerably. Sirius and Angie looked at each other for a moment, considering their options one last time, and then they nodded yes. "_Good_."

* * *

The world fell quiet. Ron and Kirsten welcomed in their firstborn in September. A year past, Sirius and Angie celebrated their "first" anniversary and the memory of a resurrected James Potter seemed to fade away like a bad dream; a figment of imagination on an otherwise perfect day.

Almost another year went by…the world that had once been so still was startling to rumble distantly now…

Ron arrived home twenty minutes before guests started arriving for Drew's first birthday. Sirius was hosting since his house was the only one likely to accommodate _all_ of the Weasleys plus others. They were also celebrating Cora Malfoy's first birthday and Ebony's second birthday which were all within two weeks of each other.

Kirsten had been worried he might not make it. He'd been putting in a _lot_ of extra hours lately. The underworld was not so quiet anymore. The IAA and the Ministry was struggling to keep up with the series of attacks, or power struggles as the _Daily Prophet_ was reporting, happening in major cities all over the world.

Kirsten, in addition to working at the Ministry on the normal sort of code-breaking, chatter deciphering job, had been doing as much research as she could find time for at Hogwarts and other areas, trying to find records of Zirconia.

Something was wrong. She could plainly tell in Ron's face. Normally he came home looking pretty stressed, lines in his young face that shouldn't yet be there. But this was different. She could feel the tension from across the room even amidst the excitement of birthday celebration and small children.

He didn't volunteer to unload anything on her though; instead he gave her a weak smile, a distracted kiss and did the same for his son. She didn't say anything at the time. A birthday party with the family present was no time to discuss work—if he could discuss it at all.

Ron was still awake that night when she fell asleep and in the morning he had gone. It was late that night, she had put Drew to bed and was pretending not to be worried. Ron had been gone for over twelve hours, for sure, but probably much longer. This had happened before; it wasn't that unusual. Still, she desperately wanted to go to the Burrow and look at the Weasleys clock to make sure he was still at work and not in mortal peril.

She wanted to pace or scream or do something but couldn't. So, she set herself up at their kitchen table and spread copies of documents she'd been studying in front of her. Most of her work lately had been studying writings of the Founders. She was finding certain peculiarities. Other scholars had dismissed them as a corruption of the text but Kirsten's acute sense for language and code led her to a certain theory.

She was concentrating hard but jumped up immediately when Ron returned.

It was midnight before Ron made it home. He had awful bags under his eyes but he didn't look tired at all. He looked flushed and scared. "Kirsten," he said, immediately wrapping his arms around her and squeezing tight. The act sent her heart racing and her fear level ratcheting up a notch.

"What's going on Ron?" she asked, forcing him away from her person. He slid his hands over his face before replying.

"I think there's a dirty agent in the Department, close to Jack." Kirsten felt blood drain from her face and she looked at him with terror-seized eyes. Ron took a hold of her shoulders and propelled her into a chair. Then he kneeled in front of her and took her hands.

"You remember how you told me about the code you picked up in Salazar Slytherin's memoirs?" Ron asked.

"Yes," she interrupted, excitement surging through her despite her fear a moment ago. "Ron, I meant to tell you…I've found some things…I think it's about the Carbonated Crystal. Look here," She said, taking her hands out of his. He opened his mouth to protest, knowing that what he had to say was very important, but she seemed so intent, jabbing with quills and scattering papers. "See this? It appears all over here where they're talking about a powerful defense mechanism for that dirty rabble, Salazar talks about. This would be the mudblood's and so forth. And here, I think this is a reference to Zirconia and trying to control her."

"Zirconia? Salazar Slytherin was controlling Zirconia?" Ron asked, rising to his feet to have a better look. Of course, he could only understand Kirsten's scribbles that were in English. The rest looked like nothing.

"Yes," Kirsten said irritably. "He created her to be his mistress…that was several years ago," she explained quickly, gesturing to another pile of papers. "But it seems she developed a mind of her own and he had to control her. Remember, I told you about the Zirconia nickname? It's the necklace, it contains her weakness," Kirsten said, touching the necklace in question. Ron glanced at it and shivered. If that necklace was something created by Salazar Slytherin he wasn't too sure how he felt about his wife wearing it.

"Ron, you're missing the point," Kirsten snapped, focusing his attention back to the text. "There's a connection between Salazar Slytherin, the Carbonated Crystal, and Zirconia. This is a direct reference to the Carbonated Crystal," Kirsten said.

"Wait!" Ron exclaimed. "That!?" He pointed to a group of symbols she had just indicated. "That's exactly some of the symbols we found in Hong Kong and Sydney after the attacks a few weeks ago."

A deafening silence ensued. Kirsten was too afraid to speak, the awful truth of the situation becoming clear. "Why do you think there's a mole in the Department Ron?" she asked fearfully after a while.

"I can't be sure but it makes sense. Some strange incidents about the handing down of executive orders and three agents have wound up in St. Mungo's right after the other. That doesn't happen to Department of Mysteries Shadows often. There's more but it's complicated. I think the goal is to assassinate Jack Taylor."

"What if Zirconia has infiltrated?"

"I think I can find out who it is but I'm going to have to use myself as bait." Kirsten's eyes widened in fear.

"Now listen Kirsten," Ron said, looking at her seriously again. This is the part he had come here to tell her in the first place. "I've got to do this. If I don't Jack will die and it's likely that I could too just because of what's been happening recently. And innocent lives are in danger. If the Carbonated Crystal is being used against us again we've got a major problem. I'm going to need you to comb the texts for indicators of its powers and how to use them. Voldemort was the only known wizard of modern times to have mastered it."

"I don't think you're dealing with a modern wizard," Kirsten said. "Ron, trying to find a mole in the Ministry…it's suicide."

"Get Drew," Ron said, his voice hard. "I want you two to go to your father's. The place is like a fortress. I'm going to need his help anyway."

* * *

Ron sent an owl in advance to warn Sirius. When they arrived the door swung open before they had a chance to knock. "What's wrong? What's happened?" Sirius asked, even before he had the door shut.

"There's a bad agent in the Department and there's a chance this could be related to the appearance of Elizabeth Hoffenmeijer and James Potter at your wedding."

"And the recent the attacks," Kirsten added. "They're using the Carbonated Crystal."

"I'm not even going to ask how you know all this," Sirius said.

"I need your help. I can't flush out the mole by myself…I need another agent."

"Oh God," he muttered. "Angie's in Austria on tour…"

"I'll be here with Ebony and Drew," Kirsten said softly. "Dad are you…?" She hadn't missed the implication in Ron's statement. His eyes grew wide for a second and then his head nodded a practically imperceptible confirmation.

"He's bound my magical contract to secrecy," Ron said quickly.

"Kirsten, if the worst should happen…" Sirius lost his voice there for a minute. "You have to make your mother understand."

"Dad," she choked out, tears starting to stream down her face. A dirty agent in the Department was bad business. And Zirconia was ancient bad business. Two of the men she loved the most might not ever come back…

They both kissed her and Sirius set the security measures around the mansion to practically impenetrable. Then, they disapparated.

* * *

Kirsten's alarm went off and she was crying. Remembering that awful night she spent alone with the two helpless children in the Black mansion. They never explained the details to her but Sirius had come home first.

"We recovered the Crystal," he had said.

There were no big headlines celebrating the recovery. Certainly without that weapon the other side was desperately weakened. This time the Ministry was determined to not talk about the Crystal, and maybe the world would forget about it. Where it was now Kirsten doubted even Ron knew for sure.

Ron had sustained a nasty curse and it was a few hours before he was released from St. Mungo's. The day after Jack Taylor came to their house, awarded Ron with the Order of Merlin, first class, and a few years later when Jack retired, he recommended Ron for the top position. He was the youngest ever Head of the Department of Mysteries.

Kirsten never said a word about her father's secret agent status and Ron never brought it up.

Kirsten rolled over and found Ron not at her side. She wiped her eyes and tried to forget about the awful memories. Since the good guys had the Crystal there had been little incident with the bad guys. At least, nothing that wasn't manageable. They never had found "James Potter". Kirsten's own theory was that it was a form of Salazar Slytherin but the thought that an ancient resurrection of Salazar Slytherin could survive for so many years for this long was almost ridiculous.

She found her husband in the bathroom. He was just finishing getting ready for work, trying to smooth down his hair.

"You look pale," Ron said, sliding his finger tips along her arm. Then he gave her a good morning kiss.

"I had this dream and I don't feel too well," she admitted, her hand automatically going to her necklace to sustain the comforting feeling she always got from touching it. But her fingers found nothing.

Both her hands flew to her neck and then she convulsed wildly glaring at the bare skin around her neck. "RON!" she screamed. He caught her just as she fainted.

* * *

Hermione would have summoned half the population of the world had Harry not immediately recovered from his faint. There was now a wound in his head though that was bleeding from where he hit the counter. It wasn't that he so much sprang up into full recovery but his eyes had immediately popped back open and he groaned.

"Damn it, _don't move_," Hermione commanded, dropping to her knees next to him. Her breathing had become shallow and rapid, her heart beating at odd and rapid paces. Shakily she conjured up a handkerchief and bent to stop the bleeding from his head.

Upon closer inspection she saw that the lightning bolt scar that was normally just a thin, faint line, was blazing angrily red, and stood out against the pale whiteness of his skin. After a second of hesitation she decided to ignore that for the present. Harry was insisting on sitting up and she could do little to stop him.

"Sit with your back to the wall, at least," she gasped, exasperatedly, as he took the handkerchief from her hand and pressed it to the side of his own head. He was sweating and still breathing hard but seemed to be calm and fine now. His free hand rested lazily on his raised knee, his glasses lay uselessly next to him.

Hermione sat patiently (well, as patiently as she could force herself to) and counted his breaths as they gradually slowed to normal. After a while, Harry's one uncovered eye, for the handkerchief slightly obscured his vision, glanced over to her and he lowered the bloodstained handkerchief and gingerly replaced his glasses. They were slightly crooked but unbroken.

His mouth opened and his lips formed words but the sound that came out was barely a hoarse whisper of non-intelligible words. He frowned and gave it a second attempt, his voice cracked at first, but then he continued steadily.

"I—I don't know what happened…my scar…"

"It's bright red," Hermione said. Harry's eyes flicked upwards as if he was trying to look at his forehead and then he looked back at Hermione.

"It hasn't hurt since…" Harry trailed off and Hermione knew what he was thinking. She preferred not to think about the day Harry once and for all defeated the Dark Lord.

"Has it always in the past hurt because of something connected to Voldemort?"

"Always," Harry replied immediately. Hermione started to make a hasty statement and then stopped herself, wondering. "It's never hurt that bad," he added.

Her forehead creased. "How can that be? Surely when Voldemort _died_—"

"No, it was worse now. I was blinded, I couldn't stand…I don't even remember thinking about, or how, I made it here. I knew you were the only one who would understand about the scar so I must have…" He stopped speaking and touched his scar cautiously.

"What could this mean?" Hermione whispered.

"I guess I was hoping _you_ could tell me that," Harry said. Hermione gave him a bewildered look and ran her fingers through her hair.

"What about the…um…" she hesitated to say what she was thinking. At the time everyone had avoided discussing the incident directly with Harry and Sirius thinking it was too delicate, too strange. That same feeling persisted.

"Sirius's wedding," Harry said, for her. "I hadn't thought of that." Ron and Kirsten were the ones who had determined what they saw had to have been the reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin.

"It's the only thing I can think of. He…I mean…his body…or…well, just disappeared."

"I hadn't thought of that," Harry repeated.

"What are you doing?" Hermione cried, as Harry pulled himself onto his feet. When she joined him in the upright position he was clutching his head and holding on to the wall for support.

"Just a little dizzy," Harry muttered, taking his hand away and standing on his own again.

"Don't move," Hermione said sensing she was losing him. He was likely to go running off in any number of directions and now that she had him here she was reluctant to let him go and leave her out of the loop again. To her surprise he complied while she rummaged around in the cabinets looking for chocolate.

She slammed a cabinet shut and was about to move to the next when she caught sight of the small box of chocolates that had been delivered with the rose. Her poor rose, it was now laying limply on the counter, a few of its petals having fallen off. There was a smattering of broken glass and water on the counter.

She carefully picked the box out of the debris and opened it, offering a piece to Harry. He was not in a condition to comment on the origin of chocolates and flowers but ate silently.

"If the body we saw at Sirius's wedding reception really was, like Ron said, a reincarnation of Salazar Slytherin, and Voldemort and you were both heirs or descendants in some way of Slytherin, then perhaps the dark magic that bound your scar to Voldemort has the same effect with Slytherin's spirit?" Hermione reasoned.

"I've felt nothing for fourteen years," Harry pointed out. "Why now?"

"Something must have happened." Hermione's serious brown eyes met Harry's. The black frames of his glasses were still bent a little and slightly obscuring his view. He pushed irritably at them and swiped at the cut on the side of his head. There was a little blood yet.

"I need to report," he said.

"To Ron?"

"You know perfectly well that's not what I meant," he snapped. And she had, of course. Harry was loyal to the IAA. But it seemed to her the logical course of action. Ron was the Head of the Department of Mysteries and he was the one who had unraveled the plot by "James Potter" to assassinate the then Head of the Department, Jack Taylor. He was the one who had figured out how to recover the Carbonated Crystal. Ever since then they had assumed Slytherin and Zirconia were done for, it had been almost twelve years since then.

"Then I'm going to him," Hermione said, tucking her wand in her robes and preceding Harry to the fireplace. Harry gave an exasperated sigh.

"My duty does not lie with the Ministry," Harry intoned, a slight edge to his voice. Hermione stiffened.

"You serve on the Minister's advisory council; you're one of the chief resources of the Ministry. You may have loyalties to the IAA because of your secret contract with them, but the Ministry of Magic will not know that and they deserve to be informed. It was in our jurisdiction that James Potter was raised and in our jurisdiction that the Crystal was recovered."

"Damn it; you wait for me. Half an hour. We'll go together."

"I don't trust you," Hermione said, turning to face him dead on. Harry narrowed his eyes challengingly. "I'll meet you there so you don't slip past me. It will take at least that long to get a hold of Ron."

Harry set his mouth in a grim line but long years of experience had taught him there would be no deviation from the plan. Short of violence there was no way to restrain Hermione and that expedient was definitely not necessary. "It's probably nothing," he said after a moment.

"You know better than that. If it was nothing you would never have come here. By the way, I think you ought to see someone at St. Mungo's…just in case."

"Why? So I can report to the press as well? I think not. A media frenzy is the last thing we need. Especially if something indeed is going on. Mass panic does us no good."

"Then see a medic at headquarters," Hermione advised. "If for no other reason than to make sure you didn't incur a concussion."

"Later," he muttered. "Half an hour, and I'd advise changing. You'll get through at the Ministry much better if you follow dress code." He briskly strode into the grate and was whisked away.

Hermione had just enough time to give him a hateful scowl. There was no need for the dig at her state of dress. She had intended to spend the day at home cleaning. With a huff she stormed off up the stairs to put on some dress robes and a little mascara for attitude.

* * *

It took Harry a much shorter time than thirty minutes to report. He didn't go to headquarters as his presence there would spark curiosity. For fourteen years he had kept his employment and espionage a secret and he wasn't about to jeopardize that now. He used the usual channels for communication and left a coded message at a drop-off point. If more information was required later he would be contacted.

It was doubtful that anything would come of it, however. And it was doubtful that anyone at the IAA would take something like that seriously. As much as Harry hated to admit it Ron and the Department of Mysteries handled much more of the incidents that were probably relevant to Harry's recent attack. Professionally he despised going to the Ministry and was acutely aware of the information barriers between the IAA and the Ministry.

Neither side liked to share and Harry was often caught up in the middle. Publicly, officially, he did serve advisory capacities at the Ministry from time to time and the IAA often pressed him for classified information that they weren't necessarily privy to—at least according to the Ministry. Likewise, the Ministry was always trying to pressure IAA heads for information that the IAA didn't see fit to share.

Generally he liked operating under IAA standards far better than the bureaucratic confines of the Ministry. Usually with the IAA you could cast spells first, ask questions later, and make up statements, memos and documents to bend the law to fit your action. The Ministry was generally more confined.

In this case, however, he knew Hermione was right; Ron was the man to talk to. He had extensive personal experience with what might point to something bad going on with any number of evil forces. Twelve to ten years of relative peace had made them comfortable. He, as an international spy, was normally involved with organized crime and smuggling, sometimes the selling of government secrets. He hadn't had to contend with a ring of terrorists like the Death Eaters and he was hoping that he wouldn't have to start again. Defeating the Dark Lord once was enough.

When he arrived at the right branch of the Department of Mysteries, Hermione was vehemently arguing with a stern and bulky looking secretary. This woman looked like an auror, if Harry was any judge.

"There is absolutely no way you're going to get to see the Head of the Department today," the secretary kept insisting. "Not with everything that's happened."

"What's happened?"

"_Nothing,"_ the secretary said quickly, realizing her mistake.

"It's urgent, I must speak to Ron in person," Harry said, coming to Hermione's aid.

"Mr. Potter?" the secretary questioned, some surprise in her voice. Probably the dried blood on his forehead added to her surprise. Hermione gave his skewed glasses and irritable look and pointed her wand at him. Harry blinked in surprise and then realized that he could see properly again.

"Yes, that's Harry Potter. _We_ must see Ron," Hermione tried again.

"State your business." The woman looked expectantly at Harry.

"Classified," Harry said. "And priority."

"With all due respect, Mr. Potter. I'll decide what priority is. There is a crisis just now, so I'll have to know what you need to discuss with the Head."

Harry gave Hermione an uneasy look when suddenly a door to their left burst open. Several witches and wizards poured into the little waiting room at once; David Owens, Minister of Magic, the last of them.

"Minister!"

"David!"

Harry and Hermione both spoke at once. Harry raised a questioning eyebrow at Hermione's familiar appellation. He had immediately looked over but several witches and wizards spoke at once to them, the general gist of things being they were not allowed to speak to the Minister.

"Something awful has happened, hasn't it?" Hermione said, speaking to the room at large. She felt Harry shift uncomfortably beside her. If something had already happened than he played no part in things, only that his scar had hurt.

"Hermione. Harry?" David said, coming to a skidding halt in front of them. He had been in a terrible hurry but had stopped. "Yes, something has come up." His brow creased considerably.

"I should appreciate your counsel, I think, come with me," he said, nodding to the nearest wizard. The sea of lackeys parted and the three strode in without further ado to the inner office.

The doors closed behind them and Ron sprang to his feet from behind his desk. "Minister!" He shouted, practically running toward them. He reached them in no time and put reached out broad arms around the group of them. He faced the wall and proceeded to give a loud greeting.

Hermione had decided this was strange behavior and was regarding her friend curiously. She swore she heard a brief pop, the sound of someone disapparating, and her head snapped back to the two high-backed leather chairs in front of Ron's desk. She saw nothing. Ron had stopped mid-sentence when she moved and now he looked curiously behind them too.

Seeing nothing himself he dropped his arms and went abruptly back to his desk. David frowned and looked at Harry and Hermione. Harry shrugged and led the way to the desk. Ron conjured up two more chairs and Hermione was about to make a comment about his arithmetic when she realized someone was already sitting in one of the chairs. They were so high that she couldn't see the golden blonde head of Kirsten until she came round the chair.

"Hermione. Harry!" Kirsten exclaimed when she saw them. "Minister," she added, a bit more respectfully.

"What's happened? How did you know?" Ron asked, looking to Harry and Hermione. Hermione thought it was a little strange that he had completely ignored the Minister of Magic who had been clearly on his way to an urgent meeting.

"I've just had the most pain in my scar—ever. I realize now that that doesn't allow us to do anything. Something has _already_ happened. What?"

Ron licked his lips nervously and glanced at Kirsten. David shifted nervously. He felt out of the loop somehow and that wasn't good, considering he was the Minister of Magic.

"The scar—I think I can answer that…though what it has to do with the other…" Ron began warily.

"The Carbonated Crystal has been stolen…again," David said, hoping to actually get words on the table.

Hermione resisted the impulse to gasp and say stupid things in her shock and waited for someone to say something meaningful. It had been little talked about in recent years and everyone assumed that it was impossible for it to fall into the wrong hands again.

"Zirconia?" Harry questioned.

"And Salazar?" Hermione added. David gave a start and looked at her in wonder. Ron glanced at him in a passing sort of way and rubbed his wrinkled forehead.

"The bodies of Elizabeth Hoffenmeijer and James Potter were just found less than an hour ago," Ron said. Kirsten made a move to grab her necklace but finding nothing let her hand fall back down pathetically.

Hermione noticed. "Your necklace? Where's your necklace?" she asked weakly. Harry's lips parted in surprise as he turned to look at Kirsten. She simply shook her head and Ron answered for her.

"When she woke up this morning it wasn't around her neck."

* * *

END CHAPTER TWO

* * *

A/N: OK, if that last part was a little confusing, I'm sorry. I wasn't really sure what to write to explain what has been going on. So, if you still have questions they will of course be doing a lot of talking about incidents next chapter and you can always send me an e-mail or something.

Anyway, I can't believe I updated. I had this thing half done last March but stopped writing. So last week I decided I'd just finish the chapter. And here you go. It's sufficiently long for having a year in between updates. I don't make any promises for the continuance of the story but I do have ideas of what comes next.

Also, I'm enjoying writing this. And every time I revise a chapter of The Last Laugh that gives me more inspiration to write this. Currently though, I want to focus on my original stories…some of which you can find on my fictionpress account.

Thanks to everyone who's stuck with this into the third story. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I think there's some good stuff in there, even if sometimes my writing doesn't exactly do the plot justice. The stuff that's not exactly plot I think is pretty good and pretty funny.

Stardust


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